Time's Window
by TruthSS
Summary: Years have passed...time has changed them. But how much has time changed their feelings for one another?
1. Chapter 1

2 years later…

Prologue

To say Olivia Pope had not been this happy in years was an understatement. The proof? Her stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

It was a Friday night and she was in bed. A few years ago, it would be inconceivable to even entertain the notion of being home on a Friday night. Normally she would be working, held up in the office going through phone records, medical bills and bank transactions. But those days were no longer. And to make her life anymore different than it once was, there was a man in her bed.

Derek Ramirez was her boyfriend. Yes…boyfriend. And she was in her bed with him, wearing one of his old dress shirts, laughing hysterically at Fresh Prince of Bel-Air re-runs.

"I…can't…believe…that DANCE!" Olivia doubled over in hysterics. She caught a brief glimpse of her boyfriend, attempting to stifle his laughter.

"Umm…" he said, his voice cackling with glee. But he could not contain himself anymore. Their laughter filled the apartment, bouncing of the walls until they could laugh no more.

"I cannot believe you've never watched this". He said, picking up the remote and turning the TV off.

Olivia rolled her eyes, amused. "Well…I was very busy in the 90's, being Olivia Pope and all."

Derek smirked, reaching over to Olivia and cuddling her against his broad chest. She loved being with him. Snuggling cozily, with not a care in the world with a man she loved. She closed her eyes at ease. Feeling safe and warm for the first time since…

Don't think about that. Don't you dare!

She readjusted herself in Derek's arms, almost as if she were physically shaking away the clouds of dark thoughts that permeated through her mind. But it was understandable why such a thing would happen. Given what she had been contemplating doing. She was edging on the line, throwing herself back in the lines den.

And for the first time in about three years, her stomach was performing backflips. For the first time in years, her life would be chaos. Hotel rooms, fatty food, cable news green rooms.

For the first time in years, she was contemplating working for Fitzgerald Grant III.


	2. Chapter 2

12 hours earlier

Cyrus Beene was a busy man. Being Senior Advisor to the President did not exactly lend itself to much free time. But in situations of dire desperation, he would force himself to make free time. Like James's birthday, or when his arthritis would paralyze him, making it difficult for him to get out of bed in the morning.

But right now, he was sitting in 2100 Prime, once known as the Jockey Club waiting for his 12:00pm appointment. Sure, it was a working lunch, but any meal outside the White House cafeteria to him was equivalent to a romp in the English countryside. To add to his palpable feeling of slacking off, it was an election year. Sure, President Grant was leading his Democratic opponents by more than 10 points, but they were about a year out until Election Day. Anything was possible. And working for the Grant Administration for as long as he had, he knew anything could blow up at any given moment.

However, if this meeting went as planned, in about a week, polls would have them in landslide territory.

"Sir? Sir?" a chirpy voice greeted his ears. He looked up to see a waitress equipped with a pad, waiting to take his order.

"Oh…sorry." He responded. That tended to happen. Getting so lost in his thoughts, the world itself did not exist. "You know what; I'll start with a Pinot Noir, the Martinelli Bella Vigna. A bottle. I have a guest coming so I won't order until she gets here." He said briskly as the waitress scribbled his order on her pad.

"Coooming….write…up" invoking that annoying habit waiters had of stretching out a sentence as they wrote.

As she walked off, he checked his watch. 11:40 am. Knowing Olivia Pope, she was going to arrive in exactly 10 minutes.

But then again, he was not sure he knew Olivia Pope as well as he thought he did.

It had been years since they had sat down for a meal. And months since he had actually spoken to her in an unofficial capacity. The Olivia of old, the formidable cutthroat pupil had changed so much. 2 years ago, fresh out the White House, she had created Olivia Pope & Associates. A small, boutique consulting firm that catered to Washington's elite located in a fashionably shabby office on Delaware Ave.

But the Olivia Pope of now, still a shrewd business woman had expanded beyond her island of misfit toys employees and had moved her office to an elegant K Street townhouse. Or so the Washington Post said. He had seen a picture of her in the gossip pages at a Sally Quinn party with her boyfriend, Derek Ramirez, an attorney at Arnold & Porter.

He remembered that day a few years ago when the President had heard the news…how his whole demeanor changed. The slumping shoulders. His boyish face expressing the pathos of his disappointment.

But as his thoughts dug deeper within his head, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulders. He looked around to see her standing in all her glory.

"Fancy meeting you here." She said with a smirk.

He stood up to greet her but she held up an elegant hand. "Please, Cyrus…"

As she sat, the waitress worked her way over to the table, placing the wine down and pouring out their glasses.

"Wow, Pinot Noir, and a California?" she said. "Rough times at the White House?"

"Very funny. But things are running pretty smoothly." Cyrus said hastily.

Olivia smiled, taking a sip of her wine. Did she know why they were here?

"So if things are running so smoothly, why am I here?"

Cyrus decided that now would be a good time to take a gulp of his wine. So he could bullshit his way into a respectable answer.

"You know, I always knew you were confident, never took you for being smug."

"Well you know me, I don't do bullshit. Why am I here?" she said looking bored, smoothing out her elegant white sheath dress.

"I like the dress Liv, what is it? Michael Kors?" Cyrus shot back. He was desperate, flattery always worked.

She laughed, rolling her eyes and taking another sip of wine. She seemed to flinch at him using "Liv". He knew how to oil her engine. It must have brought back memories.

"It's Ralph, thanks but you haven't answered the question." She blinked slowly.

Cyrus took a deep sign and an even deeper drink. He strategized in his mind. Remember, the greater good argument.

"As you know, its game time, and we need troops on the field. I know…I know you walked away. And with everything that went on, this is precarious. But we want to bring you in for Communications. You run the shop, staff, and the works. We can talk about pay later but right now, we need to know if you are in or out."

Olivia looked gob smacked. And then it hit Cyrus. The smugness, the faux boredom. She thought there was another scandal. Now he knew he was in for the kill.

"Look, Fitz-"There was that flinch again. Good.

"Don't…" she said looking flustered. "Do not say his name…" she said in a strangled whisper.

Cyrus did not want to look to gleeful. It was like taking candy from a baby.

"…what I was going to say is that the president has put everything behind him."

"Of course he has."

Cyrus observed her carefully. The power had shifted.

"It's just a campaign, Liv. You don't need to come back to Pennsylvania Ave. All we want is an adequate Communications Director who knows what they're doing."

"I have a whole staff of strategists, PR people and consultants who would be willing to take this on. Perhaps I should email a few resumes to you? Maybe talk to a few friends?" Olivia said trying to gather herself together. She immediately went into business mode.

Cyrus chuckled.

"We need the big guns. You know we have some bodies buried. And we need you in the tent pissing out just in case-"

Olivia looked outraged. Her pretty face screwing up in rage.

"No! What you need is for his dirty little secret to be on the payroll because you know someone's going to start digging. The democrats aren't playing around and they are going to rehash the whole sordid affair. You know the Amanda Tanner story isn't as dead as we all think. Some nosy reporter is waiting in the wake; political enemies are waiting to eat him alive. It's been what, two years? And not a peep. They want blood Cyrus. You have no idea-"

"Of course you would know, Ramirez, isn't his dad Andy Ramirez? The Senator from New York, Democrat right? Ambassador to China? People are talking about him to be VP to Thompson? You don't think that's a little reckless?"

Cyrus had enough. His blood was boiling. How dare she threaten what he had worked for? Particularly when she had come so close to ruining it.

"So before you start prognosticating in your ivory tower, remember, you are close to the fire. You are literally sleeping with the enemy, Liv. And if you do not have the power of the White House behind you, away from Ramirez during campaign season it is going to come out. An idiot amateur reporter figured out Billy's shit. What makes you think a bright trial lawyer who wants to see his dad become the first Latino Vice-President won't take down his lover and the Republican president to boot. It wouldn't hurt. He could move up, there are a lot of perks with his dad becoming VP. He becomes a senior partner, hell, maybe he even runs to be Attorney General. " He finished. He could feel his heart thumping."

"He loves me" she said, her eyes shining with tears.

"The president "loved you". And yet a two year affair and one abortion later, he's still president isn't he? Didn't resign…wonder why? As much as you don't want to admit it Liv, great men don't just give up ambition for love. If Fitzgerald Grant wanted, if he really didn't care about the presidency, he would have resigned a long time ago. With or without your help."

There it was. The punch. He had hit her hard. He knew she could not say no. There was a part of him, deep in the pathologies of his brain that jumped for joy at his triumph. As he took a sip of wine, the waitress returned.

"Sir? Are you ready-"He cut her off.

"No. I'm not ordering." Cyrus said. He got up to leave, not even looking back to see the results of his work. Not lingering around to pay the bill, let alone look at Olivia's heart-shaped face screwed up in heartache.

He played the bottom of the deck. Her need to have the president remain in the White House, her noble almost masochistic need for Fitzgerald Grant to be great would never go away. No matter how long it had been. It seems like she was still the same Olivia after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

That night at the White House…

It was a quiet night at the White House. It had been a typical ending to a quite typical day. Policy briefings and the shuffling feet of West Wing employees had given way to the hush of night. The day was so smooth in fact that the normally work-addicted First couple had retired to the residence about an hour earlier than normal. This struck the Secret Service agents as fairly odd seeing that the First Couple, while polite to one another in public, were hardly the candidates for "marital bliss". Over the course of the President's term, there were a few likely scenarios that occurred every night.

The President and First Lady stayed in their respected wings of the house until the wee hours of the night, the President would be away from the White House on official business while the First Lady returned to the residence or the ever popular scenario, which involved the president pacing in the Rose Garden until dawn.

The arrangement tonight only occurred when the children came home from boarding school. When the family spent time together and they could hear waves of forced laugher emitting from the rooms. And to make the night even stranger was the silence that met their ears. No fighting or yelling.

But little did they know that the First Couple were hardly silent.

Inside the plush bedroom, furnished elegantly to the First Lady's taste was the first couple in the most intimate of positions.

Fitzgerald Grant was thrusting rapidly into Mellie Grant. Their nude, sweaty bodies frantically smashed into one another. Mellie's moans were quiet, gently emitting from her mouth. Her husband's eyes were closed, his face screwed up in intensity. To most, the idea of a martial couple having sex was not unusual. But for them, monuments should be erected, (pun excused) whenever it happened.

Sure, over the course of their nearly 23 year marriage it had happen on a few occasions, even giving them two beautiful children. But it had been years since they had just been intimate for the sake of carnal needs. But in this case, the carnal need was one sided.

As Fitz masterfully thrust his hips into his wife, his eyes closed, he heard her whisper three words he feared the most.

"Just…come…already." She said through clenched teeth.

As the words hit his ears, he immediately pulled away from her, growling in frustration. He could hear her breathing deeply. Fitz felt the blood boiling in his ears.

"Look" he began breathing deeply. "You…you asked for this."

Mellie jumped out of bed, grabbing her silk robe of the floor and furiously tying it tightly. She walked over to her husband, who was red all over trying to catch his breath. His excitement had already deflated. He looked pathetic, sitting on the edge of the bed, with his head down like a scorned school boy.

"I'm sorry if I am not worthy of your sexual enticement but this complete inability for you to get a good night's sleep will not go unnoticed. People would start to ask questions." She said in a voice strangled with insipid resentment.

Fitz's head shot up, his bright grey eyes steely with anger.

"You and your goddamn worrying about people and what they think can go to hell." He said quietly.

"I am just doing my part!" Mellie shot back. Her voice rising with every syllable. "Finally! Everything around here is running smoothly. No scandals, no mistresses and you had to ruin it by falling asleep during a fucking foreign policy briefing!" As she spoke, her husband began got up and began dressing.

"I guess you are just going to ignore me!"

He rapidly pulled his boxers up his well sculpted hips in anger. He had enough. The hair brained schemes, the pretending to be happy. How pathetic was it that he was incapable of reaching climax while sleeping with his own wife. She wasn't unattractive. Tall and pretty, with dark auburn hair and clear eyes, he was sure any man would be lucky to have her. But right now, he felt like the least luck man on the planet. He didn't want any part of her.

"Mellie, let's not pretend that you having sex with me is some kind of selfless, Mother Theresa caliber deed okay? You have been calculating for months on how to do this. You just saw an in with my insomnia. If it's necessary, first thing tomorrow, I call the doctor and get a prescription. If it gets out, that I can't sleep we spin this as a sign of the stresses of the job. So don't you worry about what people think!"

He spat the word "people" with such venom, that even Mellie was taken aback. His eyes, the portals to his soul revealed all his wife needed to know.

Fitz got dressed with the kind of speed that stage performers used between sets and bolted out of the bedroom, past his Secret Service detail and down the hall into the office of the residence.

The Secret Service detail looked at one another. This night was not that odd after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Seconds Later…

He bee-lined for the cabinet under the portrait of Ulysses. S. Grant, and grabbed what he found solace in every night the black of his soul haunted him. Johnny Walker. Blue Label.

It had been a gift from the British Prime Minister. One he had wanted to keep for sentimental value. But he needed a release. Even the cold, smooth glass in his hand provided solace. He opened the cap and drank straight from the bottle. He had neither the time nor wherewithal to march back into the residence for a glass.

It went down like fire. He loved the feel of that burn. The way his thoughts became muggy and clouded. How as soon as the alcohol hit his system, his mind could wander to a balmy August night in a Florida hotel room. One that brought memories of real passion kisses so sweet they felt illegal, dark ebony skin and soft curves. And those eyes.

His Livy's eyes.

Big, brown and filled with sensual heat.

He drank more. Trying to get lost in his imagination. But it did not work. Instead, it made his heart ache for her in a way it had not in a long time. He tried to forget, driving himself with the anger of the day she left. The anger of seeing her happily gallivanting with the son of his political enemy in the papers.

But Fitz could not do it. Along with the taste of his sadness and the scotch was the feeling of tears coming. He drank some more. Fitzgerald had never been one to hold his liquor. Despite years of drinking, he had never developed the immunity. He drunkenly walked back toward the chintzy leather coach and plopped down, still facing the picture of Ulysses. S Grant. His great ancestor.

It felt as though the picture was mocking him. That erudite look pissed him off in his inebriated state. Fucking prick! He thought. How dare he mock him. He was not that great of a president anyway.

He got up stumbling slightly and began to speak to the picture.

"How dare you?" He questioned his voice cracking. "How dare you look at me like that? Like Cyrus? Or Mellie does? What the fuck do you know? Huh? You know your corruption knew no bounds so don't fuck with me right now, with your goddamn accomplishments. It's your fault, you know? Creating descendants of pricks with an obligation to their country larger than life itself." He shook his head.

"Every man in my family has had an affair. My dad, my grandfather, his father before him. And why? Because we were sworn to our duty to protect, defend and serve this country because you bestowed it's on us. I could have run a charity, taught law, hell just stayed a Governor and been happy with a woman who loved me and I loved. But no! Our family has not had a president since you so naturally my dad pushed. Senators, Secretaries of State and Ambassadors. So I had to take up a mantle I did not want."

Fitz could feel the alcohol pumping into his blood. His thoughts got muggier. His speech got a little more slurred. He felt nuts. Talking to a fucking picture.

And in his anger he threw the bottle at the wall. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the large residence.

"I loved her. And she left me…she left me to a power hungry bitch! I want her so badly. And I am doing it again, I know she is going to come back. And I don't know if I can just pretend like…like… I can just let her be."

He slid to his knees and for the first time in a while allowed himself to cry and completely release. Little did he know, Mellie stood outside the door, fuming in anger.

What did he mean Olivia was coming back?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The Day after…

Olivia's morning was not exactly going the way she had hoped. She had barely slept the night before. Despite the lovely evening she had spent with Derek, she still could not shake occurred during the lunch at 2100 Prime.

She gracefully parked her pearl grey Audi A5 about half a mile from her office. It was a beautiful spring day and she decided to walk a bit. She had to clear her head. But as she walked, her Blackberry chimed in her blazer pocket.

She looked at her caller ID. It was Cyrus.

"What do you want" she answered wearily. After his ruthless dress down, she had neither the time nor appetite to spar with him anymore. Anyone else, sure she was willing to fight. But with him, she was willing to concede.

"What is the verdict?" He inquired.

"I'm not sure. I have to talk to Derek about it first."

"Huh. Tell you what, come to the White House and we can talk this through."

Olivia rolled her eyes. She hated putting herself in a predicament to be vulnerable especially on their turf.

"I have a meeting with investors in about an hour. I will think about it. Have a walk-on pass set up for me for 3pm sharp."

She was not sure where that came from. Maybe her gut was trying to tell her something.

She hung up the phone without saying good bye. She needed to make sure she had the upper hand. With a few more footsteps, she was climbing the stairs of 1000 K St. NW. It was a beautiful brownstone, partially covered in vine. It was her baby. Every morning she walked through the doors, she flashed back to the day she signed the lease on the build. Some days she could not believe her actually own a whole building.

She pushed open the front door and stalked past the lobby and into the elevator and hit the highest button. When she got out a flurry of activity greeted her. She had expanded the firm since its beginning days. Contracting a slew of consultants to join her dream team of Harrison Wright, Abby Whelan, and Huck and of course, her business partner Stephen Finch.

Mandy, her overeager assistant was standing ready with her typed out itinerary.

"Good morning Miss Pope. Today, you have a breakfast meeting with your investors-"

"Umm…Mandy, change of plans I need you to call the investors, schedule them for Friday. Call the caterers and have them cancel the breakfast order. Then I need you to call Derek's receptionist, tell her I want a conference call with him at 10, and then I need you to page Stephen, get him in my office immediately." Olivia ratted off at a rapid fire speed.

"But Miss Pope, the investors really want-"

"I understand Mandy, but I really need today to clear up some things. " She said cheerily. She could see Mandy's round face was crestfallen. She felt bad. She did this to her every week. The poor girl would spent all night typing up an itinerary only to have Olivia reschedule things at the last minute.

"Yes Miss Pope." She said quietly and made her way back to her desk as Olivia entered her office. The office was in perfect condition, white walls, black minimalist furniture and a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting on her glass desk.

She sat behind her desk and clicked on her Mac to check her emails when a knock came at the door.

"Come in." She said not looking up from her screen. She knew it was Stephen.

"What's up Liv?" He greeted brightly. He was sharply dressed in a navy suit. His shoes over shinned to the point where Olivia was pretty sure she could see her reflection in them.

"Sit, you are going to need to hear this."

She looked up briefly from her screen to see Stephen's eyebrows raised.

"Oh?" he asked curiously. "Tell then."

She took a deep breath and licked her lips nervously. Stephen was her best friend. She could not lie to him.

"I got offered the Communication's job for the Grant campaign." Olivia said trying to sound casual about her predicament.

The most shocking thing about Stephen's reaction was the lack of reaction.

"So…what is the problem?" Stephen asked, looking bemused.

Olivia was kind of annoyed. Why was he being so nonchalant about this?

"Is that a serious question?"

"Should it not be? Come on Liv, it's been years. You and Derek are happy, committed, but not married, no children. Now that you've expanded the business you don't have to be here always. It will be like a working vacation. So far I do not see a down side."

"Really? I think there is an elephant lingering around here somewhere that you are not seeing. "

"You are in a relationship. I know how you are in a relationship. And whatever that thing was with Grant, you never once so much as went on a date while you carried on with him. I trust you Liv. You'll be fine. And besides you will be back in the thick of things."

She agreed with what Stephen was saying on its merits. And if she was being honest with herself, she needed a challenge. Ever since she expanded, she had grown a bit complacent. While she was happy, she often found herself with an abundance of free time that was a bit unsettling. Sure she worked out more and slept a bit more than before. But in some weird way, she missed the late nights, the greasy take-out and hitting up bars in every state across the country after primary wins.

"How do you think Derek will take this?" Stephen inquired, asking the question she had been avoiding all morning.

"To be honest, I don't know. I mean…it's not like we are on the same team politically. And then when I met with Cyrus about the job, he kind of let slip that the Dems are looking into his father for VP. And if they look in to his father-"

"…they look into his children, and then they look into you." Stephen said finishing her sentence for her.

"Yeah…" she said placing her head in faux defeat on her desk. "How do I go about this?"

Stephen shook his head and chuckled.

"It amazes me how you display genius caliber intelligence in every other area of your life except for your personal one."

Olivia raised her head and playfully stuck her tongue out.

"Call him!" Stephen said playfully, reaching across and giving her a playful tussle of her hair.

"Hey! No messing with a woman's hair, it's unseemly. And I have a conference call scheduled. So no worries."

"Ha! How every "Olivia Pope" of you. Come on, I have donuts in my office. You need to pig out some.

Olivia laughed. She hoped that this would not be the last laugh she had today.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Flashback….. 3 years earlier.

It was a balmy August night. The Republican primary season was winding down. Fitzgerald Grant was a nail away from clenching the nomination. After a series of sweeping wins against Senator Sally Langston and killer rapid response team, the election was theirs to lose.

Olivia was locked up in her hotel room taking full advantage of the mini-bar. She was on her second bottle of mini-vodka and was surfing her blackberry for news stories and unflattering things about the Grant campaign that she could rebut on the morning shows the next day. After another win, most of the team was celebrating in the hotel's bar, singing drunkenly. Typically when these things occurred she would stay for all about five minutes and then retreat to her room. Normally to work or-

But before she could finish her thought, her blackberry chimed.

She answered her phone eagerly. She already knew who it was before she answered.

"What are you wearing?" a deep voice inquired on the other end.

"Fitz…" she giggled. He was too cute.

"No seriously…" His voice when down a decibel. She could feel herself getting warm.

"Why don't you come to my room and find out." She said in her best attempt at a sultry voice.

He audibly moaned. Bingo. "Well, everyone is still downstairs and Mellie is in California. Are you sure you are up for it?" She could hear the laugher in his voice.

"When am I not up for it? The question is are you?" she asked slowly.

Click.

The phone went dead. It did not take much to rile him up. He was always ready. Before she could even put the phone down, she heard a knock at the door. She hopped off the bed like an eager school girl and swung the door open.

There he stood 6'2 and a half of perfection. His thick, chestnut curls were gelled in its normal "politician coif". He was in nothing but shirtsleeves and slacks. His sleeves rolled up to reveal his powerful forearms. And then there was his face. Strong jawed, striking features and then there was her favorite part of his face. His penetrating grey eyes…they were so bright they were almost translucent. He was visually just too good to be true.

"What?" He smirked sexily.

Olivia shook her head like dog wagging water out of its ears. He walked past her and closed the door.

"Nothing" Olivia said. Sometimes she forgot how handsome he was. He fell onto the bed casually as if it were his room. As he kicked off his shoes, he took her in. She felt self-conscious in her taupe pencil skirt and tucked in white dress shirt. Her make-up was probably smeared and her hair was in a messy bun. But despite all this, she could see his eyes darken with lust.

"Do you know?" He began slowly. "When you get flustered, you're top lip twitches."

Olivia felt her eyes widen. She ran over to the bed and playfully jumped on top of him. He was ticklish. And she was going to make him pay.

She began tickling him, nudging her fingers into his sides. He began squirming around, his booming, rich laugh filling the room. She felt alive. Carefree. She was not the campaign fixer. Sometimes she felt like the girlfriend of the captain of the high school football team.

"Ok…ok…ok …" he gasped between laughs. She straddled him, pinning him to the bed with her legs.

"That's what you get for making fun of my lips." Olivia said in a faux serious voice. But her routine fell apart mid-sentence and she started laughing.

He laughed loudly and then cocked his head to the side as if a thought was forming in his head.

"What? Do my lips twitching distract you?" Olivia inquired in a fake British accent.

His hands maneuvered their way to his favorite part of her body. Her ass.

"Number one, I think the lip thing is incredibly sexy. And number two-"He said leaning forward, gently, lying kisses on her neck.

"If…you…are on top of me, you should be naked." He caresses her lower body sensually, with an expert knowledge of what turned her on. Her body reacted to every little touch. Heating up. She could feel herself getting lost in him. She gave him more access to her neck, his soft lips sucking softly on her neck.

"Uh..." she moaned.

He pulled away to smirk at her and then with the sexiest wink she had ever seen,

Fitz huskily said "Jackpot".

The sight of his face overcome with lust and that cockiness that she loved so much sent her over the edge. Olivia's lips hungrily made contact with his lips, pouring as much passion as she possibly could in her kiss. She had never wanted him as badly as she did now.

Before she could see it coming, he flipped them over, with her on her back. As he leaned in to kiss her, she moved her head toward his ear, licked the tip of his earlobe and whispered throatily, "I want you".

* * *

"Uh…Uh…mm…Sweet baby." Fitz moaned as Olivia moved up and down at a glacial pace. They had been going at it for hours, in every conceivable position. They could not get enough of one another. He ran his hands up and down her body, feeling close to his peak. His small of his back was tingling, his toes were curling and his eyes were rolling back into his head.

They were so in tune with one another's bodies. Knowing exactly what touch, kiss, thrust or tongue motion would send the other into the abyss.

His mind was clouded. He was in bliss, attempting to prolong his gratification for as long as possible. But his Livy knew him better than that. With a masterful role of her hips, she sent him to a stratosphere higher than any high he had ever been. He reveled in her tightening around him. Their cries of passion filled the room, suffocating them in lust. Olivia exhaustedly fell onto the bed breathing heavily. Fitz could barely catch his breath but he turned his head over to look at his beloved.

Her beautiful face, glimmering with the afterglow of their love looked so peaceful, he felt as though he could die right then and there a happy man. Her ink black curls were splayed sexily all over her pillows. She licked her full lips, chapped from fatigue.

"You know Fitz", her voice hoarse and smoky, "It's rude to stare." She said blinking fast while staring at the ceiling.

"I can't help it." He rolled over onto his side to get a better view of her. She turned her head toward him and smirked.

"Don't expect anymore. I'm beat."

"Who are you telling?" He choked out. "I'm not getting any younger."

"Ha! Well I'm glad you admit that."

"Easy kid." He could give as good as he got.

For the next hour, they laid next to one another, Olivia snuggling into the crux of Fitz's arms, him holding her. They did not need to speak. They did not need the witty banter. Because their embrace said all that they needed to be said to one another. But before Fitz dozed off into the best night of sleep he had gotten in decades, he whispered into Olivia's dark ringlets those three little words. And as his grey eyes shut, she leaned up, kissed his forehead and responded.

"I love you…and I always will."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

3 years later….

Olivia was wringing her hands together. She did not understand why she was so nervous. Derek's receptionist had put her through, and now she was sitting at her desk, just waiting for him to pick up.

"Hey baby…what's up?" His voice came through the speaker. He sounded so breezy and relaxed, everything that she was not at the particular moment.

"Hey, how's work?" she stuttered. When did she get like this?

"Good, not much but we are taking on a case involving some union members not permitted to protest so I have a lot to look forward to. And how's everything on your end? You were tossing and turning a lot last night. Is everything okay?"

He was so loving and concerned. Okay Liv…out with it.

"I'm fine but I've just been thinking about some things." How lame was that!

"Like what?"

"Well, business is going well and I, um I've been thinking about taking on this…project?" At this, Olivia smacked her hand against her head. What the-

Derek chuckled. She could visually picture his hazel eyes rolling in bemusement.

"Are we talking reupholstering the furniture kind of project or something work related?"

"I've been offered this opportunity, to…uh…work for a campaign-"she began but he cut her off before she could finish.

"Grant's campaign you mean? Well, baby that's to be expected. You are really good at what you do. I'm surprised they didn't offer it to you sooner. You are going to do this?"

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God!

"Um…I don't know I mean I know how you feel about Republicans and I just-"

He laughed.

"Baby, you're a Republican and you know how I feel about you. Listen, it's a great opportunity and you should really consider it."

"Yeah, but what about us? I though you wanted to start looking at houses together and you have your legal conference coming up in a few months? I mean a campaign is a really big commitment, we are in a good place and I'll never be home-"

"You're rambling again babe. Look, I'll come over tonight, you order something from Sichuan Pavilion on your way home and we will talk about this later. Okay?"

Good, great. Later she could deal with.

"Okay, that's great. Listen, I have some things I have to take care of so can I call you back?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah, that would be great. I have to go into a meeting in a few hours so I have to get ready. Love you!" She was floating on cloud nine. How did she get blessed with such a caring boyfriend?

"Love you too babe." Click

A wave of contentment rolled over Olivia. She could not believe how seamless this whole situation had become. Of course this was the easy part. In the back of her mind, her panic had never been about Derek not understanding. They both were busy professionals who travelled for their work from time to time. And despite how committed and loving they were, they had never exactly been a clingy couple, spending every waking moment with one another. They were adults after all.

No, her worry had been rooted in something deeper. Getting herself involved in the Grant administration would be emotionally taxing. As much as the benefits were tempting, the travel, the work, and being actively involved in a campaign she believed in, there were downsides…

There was a part, a large part that feared going back to that dark place. A place of uncontrolled emotions.

And then there was the man himself. After everything that had happened between them since she left…could she face him? Had she really moved on as much as she thought she had? I mean she loved Derek. Was that not enough?

Why are you even entertaining this? You are healthy and happy with a man who ADORES you. You are going to run that campaign and that's IT! Nothing personal. Stop thinking about that!

She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair to compose herself. She was fucking Olivia Pope! She was going to go down to the White House and kick ass. She wasn't this pouty crybaby.

Olivia checked her watch. It was barely after 10 in the morning. She had work to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

At the White House…later that day.

Fitzgerald Grant could barely pay attention. He was having a meeting with an obnoxious bank CEO and his minions to discussing the merits of cutting the capital gains tax. He felt sluggish and dull from his night of drinking. The only good that had come out of it was he had been able to sleep well. And then there was his neck…he had slept in the couch in his office. Not the smartest of ideas.

"….and as you can see Mr. President; the economy is growing at 4%. This is a highly respectable rate but we of course thing that the economy can grow about double that if capital gains taxes were slashed." Finished the elderly CEO of one of the nation's biggest banks.

Fitz nodded slowly. He wasn't an idiot. He already knew that.

"Well, with all due respect Mr. DuPont, this is an election year. And the Democrats have control of the house. There is no possible way that bill is getting passed. We already decided to put up the bill to cut the corporate marginal down to 15%. And we are getting hammered every day by Paul Krugmans's and Robert Reichs's of the world. Besides, we have the deficit to consider." He said kindly with a smile.

He hated meetings like this. All they did was make him wish he still smoked. He did not need to be told what to do by overzealous fat cats. He had a country to run.

The men in the Oval Office exchange furtive looks. Fitz knew what they were thinking. Just because he was a Republican did not mean he did not have common sense. He was not just going to sign a bunch of tax cuts into law because they asked him to.

Mr. DuPont sighed deeply. "Well, Mr. President, all we can ask is for you to consider it. I think we are done for the day." The old man gingerly got up, with the rest of the men filing out of the Oval behind him.

So much for manners…. Fitz thought to himself, shaking his head as the last man closed the door behind him. But before he could even hope to have a moment to himself, Cyrus walked through the door.

"Good afternoon, Mr. President." He said in a hurried voice.

"Hey Cyrus. Can you believe DuPont had the gall to ask me-"

Cyrus march up to the desk hurriedly and looked over his shoulder as if to make sure the door was closed.

"Olivia just called; she's going to be here in a few minutes. Are you ready?"

Fitz's heart leaped into his throat at the sound of her name. He was going to see her. He cleared his throat and looked into Cyrus's face.

"I thought the two of you would be meeting…alone." He asked looking deeply into Cyrus's electric blue eyes as though trying to communicate telepathically with him.

Does she even want to see me?

Cyrus's blinked slowly as though he understood what Fitz was really asking.

"She doesn't know you will be there. You come into my office and all three of us will talk. Let's go now."

"Umm…okay" he said his voice cracking. He got up and followed Cyrus to his office. He felt his blood racing a mile a minute. This was too much he, did not know how to react. But as if to make it even worse, as the two of them reached the end of the hall way to make a turn into Cy's office, there she sat on the wooden bench.

He barely had a moment to gather his thoughts. He felt like he was going to choke to death. He put his hands into his pocket so she would not see how clammy his hands were.

"Hello Cyrus, Mr. President." She said nodding formally. She looked stunning. She was dressed to the nine's in a beautiful black skirt suit. Since when did his Livy wear black?

Her hair cascaded beautifully past her shoulders and framed her pretty face. She looked so full of life…so happy. Gone were the sunken eyes of tiredness or that look of stern focus that he remembered. Her lovely brown skin looked so soft, if he had not put his hands in his pocket, he would reached out and touched her. Her full lips were parted in a bright smile that extended all the way to her doe-like eyes.

It was almost as if her smiling contentment mocked his worried nervousness. His breath was caught in his throat. He had imagined this moment a thousand times in his mind. But in all his fantasies, he never anticipated for her to look the way she did; truly happy and at peace without him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

"So, the two of you can talk more about the job. Unfortunately I have a meeting with some of the deputies so I have to head out." Cyrus said abruptly.

Fitz felt his head snapping instinctually toward Cyrus's direction. Was…he…nuts? He thought to himself. But he should have known. Why else would he have the President of the United States meet with a potential employee for his re-election campaign? He had better things to do. Cyrus as usual had something up his sleeve.

"Sure." Olivia said brightly. Fitz looked back at Olivia. She seemed fine with this whole situation.

_She seemed…so sure of herself._

Fitz knew he would have to talk soon or he would look like a complete fool.

_…Or a bumbling teenager_

"Umm…Ms. Pope, would you like to meet in my office?" He inquired, clearing his throat and attempting to sound business like. As the words "Ms. Pope" left his mouth, he could see a glimmer of…something light up in Olivia's eyes.

Even Cyrus looked perplexed at the formality of his statement. Rolling his eyes with annoyance, Cyrus stalked off down the hallway, leaving Fitz and Olivia to themselves.

"Ms. Pope?" Olivia scoffed, with a smirk. "I know it's been a while but that's a bit much."

Fitz let out a laugh and felt himself relax. It was nice to know that after all these years; she still had the ability to make him smile.

"Sorry, it's just…weird you know." He said, motioning for them to walk toward the Oval Office. She got up and began to walk side by side with him. Everything about her presence made him feel like he was walking on cloud nine. From the way her heels click-clacked, to that wonderfully intoxicating perfume she wore…he remembered that fragrance, it reminded him of that time when she walked out the show-

_Keep focus, Grant!_ His logical brain screamed at him.

"Well, we were never exactly the most normal people on the planet." She said humored. "I cannot tell you how honored I am to be considered for the team Mr. President."

They had reached the door to the Oval, and he held it open for her, allowing her to enter first. She strutted in past him, leaving him in a trance of her perfume and the sight of her from the back. How her golden brown calves were so sculpted, and how her bottom looked so firm and -

"….Well, it depends on what you call normal." Fitz said, adjusting his tie. Olivia gently sat down, as he walked around the Resolute desk and had a seat. Thank god he left the door open.

Olivia chuckled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"You know, Mr. President, if I did not know any better, I would say you've seen a ghost."

Fitz laughed once again. He really needed to get a grip. He cleared his throat and readjusted his tie once more. Was it hot in here?

"No, um no ghost it's just you look good." He said, trying to sound casual.

She gave him a once over, in a way that made his stomach violently backflip. It did not seem overly sexual, just in the manner a friend would give another friend fashion tips.

"Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself, though I have to say, I see a few greys popping up" she said smiling.

"Yeah the job, you know."

"Yeah…."

They trailed off in silence. Something new had cropped up in the room. In the nearly 3 and a half years he had known Olivia, he had experienced a plethora of emotions, anger, passion and lust to say the least. But he had never experienced what he had been feeling now. For the first time, he felt, awkward with her. She had suddenly pulled out her phone and started scrolling through.

"I'm sorry, am I keeping you away from something?" He asked nervously.

"Umm, no just keeping tabs on the office. So like I was saying, very honored to be offered, I have to think about this more but I can say that this is something I am strongly considering. The Democrats are going to run a tough campaign. So the team needs to be razor sharp as far as the issues are concerned. The campaign needs to focus on…"

As Olivia rambled on about messaging and talking points, Fitz tuned out. He would occasionally nod to pretend as though he had interest in what she as saying but he was studying her.

Every so often, she would run her hand through her thick waves. She was blinking excessively and when she actually looked him in the eye, he could see her plump, full upper lip twitching after almost every other word ever so slightly.

The irrational part of his brain did a backflip for joy. Despite all the smiles and the one-liners, she was just as nervous as he was.

_She might actually still feel the same…_

"….I mean frankly, there is a lot of push back about the marginal tax rate bill, what do you think we should do?" She finished, waiting for him to respond.

"Yeah…yeah, I completely agree." He said disinterested. "So how's everything with you, personally I mean?" He blurted out.

For the briefest moments she looked shocked, but she hid it well with a bemused look.

"Why the interest Mr. President?"

"Nothing, you know, just want to catch up, I can't wonder how an old friend is doing?" he asked.

"Friends?" She asked. This time she could not hid her emotions. "Is that what we were?"

"Liv, we were-we are friends. At least I would like to think." His voice got deeper. Fitz could even here it himself.

She swallowed hard and then pressed on.

"Well, things are good, business is really good. And I am with Derek Ramirez." Olivia practically shouted Derek's name.

It felt like a dagger in his heart. He did not need to be reminded again.

"Derek…seems like a good guy. He's got a good head on his shoulders. We belong to the same frat did you know?" Fitz said trying to force small talk.

Olivia nodded slowly. "How's Mellie?"

"She's great…the kids are wonderful"

"Great!"

"Good!"

"Perfect."

This was getting even more awkward than it had to be. Slowly but surely he could feel them descending into the depths of awkward he had only felt when his mother once found condoms in his top drawer when he was 16.

"So, Umm…I really hope you are considering this. We've done a lot of great things and we just need someone to communicate that directly…hence why we are considering you for Communications...Director." he finished lamely.

Okay that wins the award for lamest comment of the year. He thought.

Olivia nodded once again and smiled widely. But looking in her eyes, he could tell, that this time, like the smile he had seen when he first saw her in the hallway, it was genuine.

"You are such a dork." She said abruptly.

He was taken aback. But he should not have been. _His Livy had always loved to bust his balls._

"…sorry, it's just this is new to me." He said softly. He looked deeply in her eyes, hoping to see a reflection of his true feelings in her eyes. But her poker face was so good, even those expressive eyes would not give him a tell.

"Yeah. Well, I will think about it, and get back to Cyrus about my decision. I still have to talk to Derek….so thank you, Mr. President and I will see you hopefully soon." She said cheerily, hoping up and putting out a hand for a hand shake. Leave it to Liv to nip this exercise in uncomfortable conversation in the bud.

He smiled and reached out for her hand. But as their hands made contact, something that neither of them had expected happened.

The feeling of her soft, small hand in his big strong ones triggered a level of electricity in Fitz's body that he had not felt in so long. It made him remember the beauty of her hands. How elegant her fingers were, how those hands could make him feel like king of the world. How he used to fall asleep with her running those hands through his hair…

But before his mind could drift off once more, she ripped her hand out of his hand and sauntered out of the room, leaving Fitz with nothing but old memories and the longing to hold her hand once again.


	10. Chapter 10

Olivia and Derek were peacefully eating their dinner. Or in Olivia's case, she was pushing her food around on her plate, lost in thought. The meeting with the President had left an imprint on her that she had not expected. Sure, she had done a way better job keeping it together. After all, he could barely carry a coherent sentence. But there was something so…dare she even think it…cute? Adorable, was probably the word for how he was behaving.

And then, there was the way he looked. She remembered how…distinguished he seemed when he walked around the corner. There was an air of maturity about him that she did not recognize. Maybe it was time away from him or the burden of the presidency, but despite the awkward silences or lame attempts at small talk, he seemed older.

And then on top of that, and she could not deny it, he looked so good. Better than good.

_He looked hot and you know it._ Her conscious said.

_Stop! Derek is sitting right next to you! Stop thinking like that!_

But she could not stop thinking about him…

He was taller than she remembered. His shoulders…Dear God, were they always that broad? Even through his suit jacket, she could see his bicep flex-

"Babe, are you okay?" Derek inquired, placing a caring hand on her hand. Olivia looked up from her plate and took a moment to take in Derek's face. His big round hazel eyes were wide with worry.

She smiled, got up from her seat and sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm more than fine. Listen, we really need to talk about this whole-"

"Campaign? Sure, we can talk about it. What do you want to talk about?" he asked, softly stroking his hand against her cheek.

She took a depth breath and licked her lips. _This felt weird. _

"Yeah…I just need to know how you really feel about this. I mean, you sounded really encouraging this morning but I know you-"

He cut her off by placing a chaste kiss on her lips. Olivia felt herself smile as he pulled away from her.

"See that's what I love about you Olivia, you are always thinking ahead."

In her heart of hearts, Olivia felt flattered, even relieved that he was being so supportive. But in her gut, that instinctual part of her so ingrained in her day to day decision making, she felt a seed of worry being planted.

"Umm…honey, I don't know how you can be so casual about it? I mean, I will be gone, in between California and other states most of the time. I mean, weren't we talking about looking at houses and vacations and all this stuff a couple of days ago? And now you're practically pushing me into this?" Olivia had not realized that as she was speaking, she had stood up.

_Is he not going to miss me?_

Derek ran a hand through his chestnut waves. The muscle in his jaw twitched. Olivia could see that he was trying his best remain cordial. She did not mean to upset him. But despite his clear discomfort with her questions, she felt relieved. For the first time since she had received the offer, she was expressing the downsides of potentially taking this job. Not because of her past with the President or even her emotional stability. But the sheer practicality of being a woman in a healthy relationship for the first time since law school and everyone seemed to be overlooking the obvious. Including the man she loved.

"Look, Olivia, I knew what I was getting into when I got into this relationship. You're a busy woman. You're Olivia Pope, for Christ sake. You always have been. Always will be. Did you really think I was going to sit here and grovel for you not do this? I mean, you worked on Grant's first campaign-"

Olivia could not believe what she was hearing. _A busy woman?_

She took a deep breath, and began clearing the table, stalking into the kitchen and dumping the plates in the sink. She stood by the sink and closed her eyes trying to calm herself down.

"Olivia!" he called out from the kitchen. She did not know if she wanted to go back into the dining area and face him…

But she could hear his footsteps approaching from behind.

"Babe…" he said softly.

"Is that how you think of me?" she said, her voice cracked as she whipped around to face him. There was a lump forming in her throat.

"God, Olivia, what are you talking about?"

"I'm so ambitious that I would put my work before you! Before us?"

Derek's face took an unreadable expression. His lips had thinned and she could see a glimmer of something in his eyes. But she could place it. Whatever it was, it had planted another seed…it made her feel uneasy. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes as if trying to calm himself.

"Olivia…we've been together for a while now. I know you. And I know when you are being less than honest with me. The Olivia Pope I know would jump at the chance to help the man she helped get elected keep his job. I'm not sure what happened when you worked for Grant, as you never open up about that time in your life, but a part of me wanted to know how you would react knowing you would be going back into that world. Baby, every time anything comes up about that campaign or when you worked in the White House, you change the subject! I needed to know how _you_ would take this."

Olivia stood absolutely still; she felt her blood running cold. She was numb. Was she that obvious? Had she been that obvious about her discomfort with the whole situation? Did he know the truth?

She blinked slowly. _Breathe Livy…_she heard a voice in her head say. For some odd reason, the voice sounded a lot like…

"What are you talking about?" Olivia asked quietly. She had to be careful with how she approached this. She could not afford to give anything away.

Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I'm talking about the fact that the former press secretary for the Grant campaign and former deputy White House communications director, mind you held the last position for a meager five months, doesn't ever talk about her time working for the President. I'm talking about the fact from since we first met at the White House Correspondents dinner years ago until now; you have never once given me a real reason for why you left." He said. Olivia felt her breath getting caught in her throat. She studied his demeanor carefully.

_This is clearly something he had been thinking a lot about. _

"First of all, I told you, I was stressed out, I wasn't eating and I had insomnia…secondly, we both are professionals who have had detailed oriented careers. You don't tell me everything about your career." She said, using every fiber of her being to not give any tells.

His eyebrow arched and the shadow of a smile, bizarrely enough emerged on his face.

"Why do you make it sound like an alibi?" he asked coldly.

_Fuck this! _Olivia thought violently, the coldness that overtook her body before was now being replaced with blazing anger.

"What the hell are you talking about? So you were being supportive to test me? Do you have any idea how sick that idea is? What are you, crazy? Where is this even coming from?"

"Oh, come on Olivia! Get real. This is Washington D.C! I grew up around this shit! Every bottom feeding strategist is jockeying for a job in one of the campaigns. And here you are, standing in your kitchen, the great Olivia Pope, the fixer worrying what you're fucking boyfriend thinks about you taking a job everyone in political circles knew you were going to get? The Democratic primary is wrapping up and they have already started vetting my dad! Hell, they are vetting me! I had to turn over files on my billable hours today!"

Olivia felt her heart stop. _So Cyrus had a point. _

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell but you have to know that you are a Republican. There are Democrats, including my dad who are not thrilled about your political affiliations." He said walking over to Olivia and placing his hands on her shoulders gently.

She could not believe what she was hearing. She had met Andrew Ramirez, the Senator, while gruff seemed nice, friendly. Even joked about her becoming his future daughter-in-law.

"Since…when has your dad had problems with me being a Republican?" Olivia asked shaken. She could not believe her ears.

"Look, he likes you. And so does my mom. But this is an election year. And I think it would be best if you went on the trail. My dad is going to want me to campaign, maybe host a few fundraisers to get into the pockets of the trial lawyers. And the last thing I need is people digging into the past of my girlfriend, particularly one who worked for the guy Democrats are trying to get rid of."

She looked into his face, searching for some clue that he had an idea of her secret. All she could see is worried concerned. She could barely contain all the thoughts travelling through her head. She knew what she had to do.

"Maybe…maybe we should take a break?" She whispered. It felt like her brain was on autopilot. She had no control over what she was saying. Maybe this was what all the unease had been about. Maybe, deep down inside, she had always known….

His face took on a look of caring understanding.

"Babe…it's getting late and we both have work tomorrow. Maybe I should leave and we should take about this tomorrow?" He said softly. He gently rubbed her arms softly while placing a light kiss on her forehead, walking out of her kitchen. Within a few minutes, she heard the closing of her apartment door.

After hearing the lock of her door, her body took on a life of its own she walked out of her kitchen, through her living room and into her bedroom. She walked in, closed the door and slid to the floor. She needed time to process everything that had just happened…..


	11. Chapter 11

Two Years Earlier….

It was a bitter cold February night in Washington. Washington D.C was covered in snow, leaving the normally bustling capital hushed. But the palpable feeling of excitement still permeated in the air. The Grant administration, newly ushered in on a tidal wave of excitement was in its honeymoon phase. And it was perfectly understandable why. The Grant family, good-looking, young and photogenic had generated a level of interest from the media that had not been seen since the Kennedy years.

The proverbial cherry on the cake was what had been going on at the Trowbridge House, one of the townhouses apart of the Blair House. It was President Grant's 45th birthday and anyone who was anybody was invited. It was a White Tie event, something that had become rare in the past decade (his predecessor had been a complete stiff). Hollywood celebrities (ones who were just as enamored with the new president, but were not in sync with his politics) were there as well as CEOs, former heads of state and the political elite.

Another thing that had made the event even more exclusive was its location. The Blair House was to act as a guest house for former Presidents visiting Washington but upon the First Lady's insistence, it was being used for the President's party. After all, it was much more luxurious and suitable for an event of this caliber. Not to mention, the basement after years of restoration had been redecorated into a beautiful ballroom. Perfect for 200 guest.

Olivia Pope was seated in the backseat of a government black Lincoln Navigator, dressed to the nine's for the President's event. This is the first time since her cotillion about 15 years ago that she had worn white gloves. She was dressed in an elegant white backless gown, made out of buttery silk with a long train. It was a vintage 1950s gown that had belonged to her grandmother that she had tailored. She pulled a compact mirror out of her clutch and reexamined herself. Her hair, a sweeping chignon was still holding up well as was her make up…she wanted to look good for the president.

"Ma'am, we are here." The driver announced, causing Olivia to taking in a deep breath. She looked out the tinted windows seeing the gorgeous townhouse. But at the foot of the stairs, were the press, snapping away and waiting for people to arrive. She threw her matching bolero jacket over her shoulders to guard her form the cold and waited for the driver to open the door for her.

When the door opened, she was briefly blinded by the flashing lights.

"Ms. Pope, Ms. Pope…." They yelled. There had to be about 100 or more photographers. She could barely see, but trying hard not to trip, there was snow everywhere and the lights form their bulbs were completely blinding. But before she knew it, there was a warm arm wrapped around her steering her safely toward the entrance. She looked up to see a familiar Secret Service guard, blond and freckled helping her.

"Thanks Tom", she whispered to him as they made their way into the warm house.

He smiled at her and gave her a brief nod. Tom was one of the president's personal detail. He should probably be stationed inside.

_He sent him out here for me._ Olivia thought, smiling to herself.

"Right this way ma'am" he said, guiding her down a plush hallway with velvet halls, toward a gilded elevator. Tom pushed the button with the arrow motioning down, and motioned for her to enter first.

"Thank you, Tom." She said kindly. Olivia always admired Tom. After all, he was typically the agent on standby when she and the President were together. Whether it was late night visits to her apartment or their secret rendezvous on the Grant Cape Cod compound a few weeks ago. He had been with them since the campaign so there was an unspoken understanding between the President, Olivia and Tom about how to arrange these things.

The elevator dinged along and finally reached the basement. The door opened to reveal a party in full swing. The ballroom was large, with Jeffersonian style architecture. It had a beautiful high dome ceiling and a magnificent marble dance floor. There were elegant tables, covered in linen table cloth and beautiful ornate gold centerpieces everywhere, surrounding a dance floor.

An elderly man dressed in tails, who she knew to be the White House usher, lead her to the table at the head of the room. As she got closer, all she could think as she saw the President, holding court at the table she was apparently to sit at, was:

_Dear lord, how did you create a man so damn good looking? _

She could only see him from about waste up because he was sitting but he was dressed in white tie. His hair was coifed (as usual); his shoulders looked broad in what appeared to be a tuxedo jacket with tails. He looked like a movie star from the 20s.

"Hello everyone." Alerting everyone to her arrival. The President seemed to be telling a good story because the whole table was laughing. The table consisted of the First Couple, Cyrus Beene, her friend and White House Chief of Staff, his partner, James, Vice-President Sally Langston (peculiar seating choice, but probably an effort for the President and her to get along) and her Chief of Staff, Billy Chambers. All eyes turned to her. And they all looked stunned.

"Wow, well, Olivia if I knew you were going to get so dressed, I would have tried a little harder." Mellie said jovially. Her face looked amused but her eyes told a different story.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not overdressed." Olivia said smiling, winking at Fitzgerald. His face spreading into a Cheshire grin.

"Ha! Leave it to Olivia to make us all look like crap." Cyrus said, being the gentlemen that he was, helped Olivia get seated. She removed her jacket, draped it on the chair and joking said

"Eat your heart out boys". The whole table roared with laughter. She chuckled at her own joke, never taking her eyes of the president.

"Oh, believe me, we are" Billy said jokingly. "Seriously, I envy the son of a bitch who gets lucky enough to pick you up tonight."

The table roared with laughter again. But Olivia could see the Fitzgerald had not been able to take her eyes off her…

_Jackpot._ She thought to herself. Tonight was going to be fun…

* * *

Fitzgerald Grant could not stop staring at Olivia all night. Five courses, many drinks and even dancing with almost every woman in his administration later, he could not concentrate on anything else but Olivia's beautiful body in that dress. He kept envisioning the smooth silk on his fingers, and wondering if she was naked under her dress, if she could even fit anything under something that looked like it was painted onto her hourglass frame…

He was having a good time, hobnobbing with old and new friends but he had better things on his mind. The Marsalis brothers, the surprise musical guest, thanks to Mellie, were playing some of their greatest hits and had kept most of the guest on the dance floor. Even the Dragon Lady as he liked to call his VP had let her hair down and was swing dancing with what looked like Robert De Niro.

Olivia was standing away from the dance floor with a champagne flute in her hand. She had been dancing all night so her hair was coming apart a bit, a few strands grazing her lovely shoulders. Her eyes looked a little glassy. She had been drinking…

He walked up behind her, leaned in close to her ear and whispered softly, "Hey kid".

She shrieked with delight, turning around and smiling widely at him. She gave him a little smack on his shoulder.

"Don't do that! You scared me." She said laughing.

"Whatever you say…" he winked at her.

"You look good, Mr. President" she said playfully. Fitz could feel himself getting warm.

"Look who's talking" he said, his voice getting deep. She took a swing from her champagne flute and put it down on the table behind her. As Olivia turned around to put the glass down, he swore she stuck her shapely bottom out to entice him. She turned around; her eyes heavily lidded what appeared to be unbridled lust and too much champagne. She stood on her tip-toes, brought her lips boldly to his ear and whispered seductively:

"Let's get out of here so I can show you how good looking you are…"

* * *

They had successfully snuck out of the ballroom unnoticed and made it from the basement through a pathway into Blair House. They had made it into one of the ornate guest bedrooms drunk with lust, kissing passionately as they made their way to the bed, still clinging to one another.

Fitz's hands were running all over Olivia's body, alternating between lustfully grabbing her ass, cupping her breast. Olivia was running her hands through his hair, messing up his coif haired. She broke the kiss to undress him.

"God…Liv'" Fitz said, his voice overcome with longing. He pinned her down not being able to take it anymore. He pulled of her dress, as fast as he could without ripping it, revealing she was wearing nothing but a lacy white thong. He cupped her breast and buried his head in her neck, sucking the area behind her neck, triggering Olivia to moan. He could feel her wiggling around underneath him.

"Fuck!" she said, grinding her hips into him. He could feel himself harden.

He kissed down her body, hungrily kissing her breast, her stomach all the way down to her heat. From his vantage point, she could see her face, overwhelmed with pleasure. She was breathing heavily, calling his name….

* * *

Two hours later...

Fitz and Olivia had lost track of time. But they did not care. Olivia could not contain herself. She was lying on her back, with Fitz on top of her. He was such a good lover it was impossible for her to even process anything properly. Her body was slick with sweat, every inch of her skin on high alert as he masterfully rolled his hips into her. She could feel herself getting close to climax. His head was buried him her hair, whispering sweet things over and over again.

"Ah…ah…oh don't stop baby! I'm so close." She said moaning. "You feel soooo good….Don't stop."

His lips met her mouth, kissing her passionately. She knew it was to shut her up. They could not make too much noise. She loved the feeling of him, so strong and big inside of her, she was torn between wanting to release and wanting to prolong this feeling for as long as she possibly could.

She broke the kiss, throwing her head back, her toes curling as he purposefully slowed down.

"Fuck Fitz! I'm….I'm….." Her body was going haywire, her hips bucked. She could feel herself coming apart at the seams like she always did. She had lost count as to how many times it had been…

They both reached their peak at the same time, leaving them breathless and covered in glistening sweat. He stayed on top of her, softly laying kisses on her face as they attempted to recover.

"Wow" Olivia breathed.

"I know how you feel" Fitz said softly, looking into her eyes. He looked so sexy, his face covered in sweat, his hair, curly and wet. His grey eyes hooded. He looked content.

"We should be getting back soon…" she said, the rational part of her brain taking over.

"Yeah we should."

And with that, they regretfully peeled away from one another, and got dressed. When they were done, they locked lips passionately for the last time. But before they could get carried away, Olivia pulled away.

"Hey!" Fitz said laughing as they made their way out of the room. "What's that?"

She laughed shaking her head as they made it down the hall and into an elevator.

"I know how you are, we start kissing and you won't stop."

"Yeah right, like you would." He said with a playful slap to her ass.

"Will…you..stop!" she said smiling. The elevator dinged open, revealing a young brunette in a red dress. Olivia recognized her from around town. Julia Lopez, a Time political magazine reporter. _Damn it!_

* * *

Julia was tired and sick of hobnobbing with celebrities…..she had an appointment with Billy Chambers for an interview in the morning. Her boyfriend, Derek, wanted to stay but she didn't care. She was going home. And besides the dress she was wearing was way too tight. She shuffled disgruntled to the elevator. But as soon as it opened, it revealed one of the strangest sights…

The President of the United States, looking a bit sweaty, playfully…almost too playfully bantering with his Deputy Communications Director, Olivia Pope.

_That was weird, _She thought as she they walked out the elevator and she walked in. She had barely seen them all night? Come to think of it, she had not seen them since the room had been buzzing about how gorgeous Olivia Pope had looked when she arrived. But looking at her in the elevator, she looked like she had been running a marathon, her hair was a little messy and her eye makeup was a bit smeared.

Why were they just coming back to the party now?

And then a strange thought popped in her head….her reporter instincts were on high alert.

_Why is the birthday boy hanging out in an elevator with his damn subordinate? _


	12. Chapter 12

Two Years Later…

It was late at night…

Julia Lopez was stuck in her dimly lit office, alone and working on the last story she would be working on before the election kicked into high gear. If one could even call it high gear. In some ways, the election would be a rather boring one. After all, President Grant's job approval was 65%, the economy was booming, and there were no looming political scandals or foreign policy hiccups on the horizon.

So instead of soothsaying the potential outcome of the election like most of her peers, she was writing, (thanks to her ancient editor) a human interest piece on Olivia Pope, the crisis management consultant. She had heard buzzing that she was being offered the job Communication's job for the White House; so naturally, it would be Julia that wrote the story. The story's angle was a little of what Time did best. And this would be fluff, biography with a hint of psychoanalysis.

Olivia Pope was the daughter of a neurosurgeon and a lobbyist for the tobacco industry. She had grown up in a wealthy Northern Virginia suburb, where her parents occasionally had the likes of Henry Kissinger and Colin Powell over for dinner. She was raised a Democrat but switched parties during her years at Yale law school…and then there was all the other typical politico stuff: The White House internship, work as a staffer for Speaker Tom Lorry, the big glossy consultant firm, the Grant years then finally, Pope & Associates.

_Little Miss Perfect…_ Julia thought to herself bitterly. She had done all the customary interviews with old schoolmates, friends, and colleagues. The whole thing made her want to throw up. Everyone had acted like she was fucking perfect. Not a bad word.

_They were like fucking drones!_

She needed something interesting.

_Well, you can't exactly write that she stole your boyfriend…_Julia thought sardonically. There it was. The anger and disappointment of what had occurred all those years ago, but either way, she was not over it.

She and her ex-boyfriend were happy. So she thought. Then one day, Derek calls her and breaks up with her, talking about he was no longer in love. Okay so fine, they had been in a rut, barely seeing each other due to their careers, but she thought they would eventually get back together.

Four weeks later, her Derek and Olivia were the topic of conversation around town, from her office, to the Washington Post. The whole thing had broken her heart. She could not get out of bed for two weeks, was behind on deadlines and had gained 10 pounds in an attempted to eat her sorrow away.

And now here she sat, two years later, being forced against her will to write a fucking story on her ex-boyfriends girlfriend.

She would not hate Olivia so much if it weren't for how perfect she was. Petite and gorgeous, she was the kind of knockout beauty Washington D.C so rarely produced. And if Washington was "Hollywood for ugly people", Olivia was the prom queen. Not to mention she had all the right pedigree and had been a Washington insider before she could even drink. It seemed like anyone worth a damn in the city knew her and admired her in the way that glossy magazines seemed to admire A-list actresses.

She had met Olivia Pope on a handful of occasions. She was smart as a whip, so Julia could not write her off as an air-head. She was prettier in person, so Julia could not make herself feel better by putting her down in her own mind... And worst, she had that undeniable "It Factor". That Clintonesque ability to make whomever she was talking to feel like the most important person in the room (if it could make Julia hate her even more).

But as she typed out the paragraph on why Olivia would be a knockout asset to the Grant campaign, her mind wandered back to that night years ago…the President's birthday party. The wayward manner in which she and the President were behaving….

_It was kind of weird. _Julia thought. She even remembered expressing this to Derek at the time, but he brushed her off, telling her she was imagining the whole thing.

"Babe, I think you have had one too many drinks…" he had said that night when they were in bed.

But she had not. She was completely sober. And she knew that she did not behave with her co-workers like that. Not to mention President Grant had always had rumors of his marriage being in trouble. Maybe he was just a flirt.

_Sure, and Amanda Tanner was a coincidence. _The logical part of her brain reasoned. She had never bought into the notion that it was the First Lady on that sex tape all those years ago. Nor had she ever bought into the Grants being the perfect couple. Julia had seen perfect couples. And despite it all the pretense and show, they seemed so forced.

But before she could divulge into the theory she had mulled over for over two years, her blackberry started ringing to the tune of The Beatles "I Want to Hold Your Hand." She picked up the phone (which was underneath a pizza box; she promised herself she would go running in the morning…or whenever she had time).

She looked at the caller ID to see a name she had not seen across her phone screen since two years ago, when she told him to "Fuck himself and Little Miss Perfect" on the top of her lungs in her office.

It was Derek.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say you were drunk" she answered sarcastically without saying hi.

"Hi" he said, his voice sounding full of stress and worry. She knew him too well even after all this time.

"I need your help; I need you to look into Olivia's time working for Grant"


	13. Chapter 13

Four Months Later….

The Grant campaign was in full effect. The ground operation in each state was organized, messaged and promoting his record as president. It was one of those campaigns that simply felt like a formality. The poll numbers were in the administration's favor and Senator Thompson's campaign, lackluster and disorganized could barely keep up.

But there were still character attacks. Senator Thompson, an older man who prided himself on his old fashion, egg-head approach to politics often slammed the President in speeches for being an "a man too in love with himself to put the needs of the country first." For the smart politico, the statement was a loaded one, masking in polite terms what some in the Grant camp saw as his weaknesses. There was still a segment of the population that saw him as a know-it-all pretty boy with a roaming eye.

Despite the damage control done years ago pertaining to the Amanda Tanner scandal, a part of Middle America viewed the whole sordid affair, one that ended with the suicide of the former VP's chief of staff as unbecoming and seedy. Even in polls, at least two out of four Americans believed there should be at least congressional hearings or a criminal investigation done into the Grant Administration…and Senator Thompson was running on the idea.

"The only thing, more disturbing than this President's coddling of rich fat cats is the blatant corruption and scandal that has permeated throughout the past for years. As President, you can bet that a Thompson administration would restore honor and integrity to the White House!"

The President, First Lady, Cyrus and Olivia were sitting in the president's hotel suite in North Carolina, watching footage of a Thompson rally. Olivia clicked off the television, got up, stood in front of the television and turned to face the other three.

"This is what Cyrus and I were discussing. Thompson is a down home boy, grew up in South Carolina and is a self-made man. The Democrats are painting the picture of the two of you as a snobby pair of elites more concerned about you're about maintaining your tans and your multiple homes than the concerns of the American people. Now even though the president is polling extremely well on domestic and foreign policy, according to the latest ABC/Washington Post poll, you are trailing behind Thompson by nine points when it comes to family values." Olivia said at a rapid fire speed. She was in full fixer mode and was running on nothing but coffee and ice tea. She had way too much energy for her own good.

Cyrus was sitting on the couch opposite the First Couple nodding in agreement. Olivia twiddled her thumbs. The room was silent. Fitz had his eyes closed, his head leaning back on the coach as if he were meditating; Mellie was demurely pouring tea into a tea cup, as though she had not been paying attention to a word Olivia just said.

"Yeah" said Cyrus, in an attempt to start conversation. "We are going to need Mellie to campaign a little more in the swing states by herself. She does well with women, another area we are down in. We have a schedule drawn up-"

But as Cyrus spoke, Mellie cut him off.

"Fine, whatever you say. Look I have to be in Virginia to give a speech to military families, that's what _I_ have scheduled." She said icily.

This attitude had been becoming a prevalent issue for Cyrus and Olivia, the biting remarks, the eye rolls and the blatant disregard for people's feelings. Mellie was becoming unbearable for the campaign to deal with. The word "diva" seemed like an appropriate fit.

Not to mention, for a woman who, as Olivia remembered painfully, was so concerned about her husband's political future, she seemed distracted, cold (although she always was that) and suffered from a serious case of "I don't give a fuck."

Cyrus shot Mellie a furtive look. Olivia could feel the tension in the room. She looked at Fitz who still has his eyes closed.

_What the hell?_ She thought.

"Ms. Grant would you like to-"Olivia started brightly.

Mellie's, head snapped in Olivia's direction, her baby blue eyes icy with annoyance.

"So it's _Ms. _Grant now? I know you don't have much respect for my marriage but I'm still _Mrs. Grant_, even to you, is that clear?" Mellie said so quietly, she might as well have whispered. Olivia felt herself seething with anger, she had enough. For the past few months, ever since she had been working for the campaign, Mellie had been doing nothing but making little digs of it. And even Cyrus, who had normally gotten along with Mellie, was getting sick of her.

"Whatever you want to believe, Mrs. Grant" Olivia shot back with a grimace. At that, Mellie angrily flounced out the room, finally triggering Fitz to open his eyes and sit up.

"What the hell is her problem?" Cyrus wondered out loud.

Fitz ran a hand over his face in frustration. "The hell if I know. Look guys I'm really sorry about all of this…Mellie is just being…Mellie." He said kindly.

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Look I could care less, just make sure she has this schedule-"he pulled out a sheet of paper with dates and locations drawn up and slapped it on the table angrily. This caused Fitz's face to take on a face of confusion.

"What's your problem?" Fitz asked slightly bemused. Cyrus grabbed his folders and tucked them under his arm and stood up.

Cyrus was seething and Olivia could tell. It was getting to him.

"_My_ problem is her and her fucking attitude. Olivia and I have been busting our asses, day in and day night. Do-Do you think this is easy for us? We give our _lives_, hell Olivia's relationship has fallen apart, James is up my ass every night about working too hard and she has the nerve to bitch and MOAN!" Cyrus yelled.

Olivia felt her face burning as Cyrus rampaged. For the past few months, she and Cyrus had mended their friendship. They had become drinking buddies, consoling one another about the rigors of the campaign. And Olivia had confided in him about Derek and their break-up. Her relationship with Fitz on the other hand had not expanded beyond awkward small talk. They kept it very professional, only really seeing each other when they had to discuss election manners. Other than that, Olivia made sure she avoided him at all cost. It was too risky.

Fitz looked from Cyrus to Olivia. She could feel is eyes on her as she looked down at her Tory Burch flats.

_Damn it Cy!_ She thought. And then he did what she dreaded the most. Cyrus walked out of the room, fuming.

As the door slammed, the tension ratcheted up to unbearable levels. Olivia could feel that all too familiar lump forming in her throat. She could taste the salty tears coming.

"Liv-" Fitz said quietly. She wasn't looking directly at him but from the corner of her eye, she could see his face was racked with sadness.

"Don't-"As she turned to walk away, she felt his warm arm grab her arm. "Livy, what is Cyrus talking about? I thought you said you were still with Derek…" He tried to look in her eyes but she kept looking around the beige hotel room. The plain furniture, the generic white sheets, so many nights, they had spent in hotel rooms like this…

"Liv! Why did you lie to me? Huh? Come, talk to me, why won't you-"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm back to being alone? That my ex-boyfriend won't talk to me, won't return my calls for whatever reason? That I'm hearing rumors that he is back with his ex-girlfriend? Is that what you want to hear!" She said becoming overwhelmed with emotion. She was crying now. And Fitz's vice like grip on her arm was not helping…

"It would be a start. Liv, every time I try and talk to you, you change the subject or run off. Why can't we just-"

"Just what Fitz? What did you think? I was going to work for the campaign and everything was going to go back to the way things were? That you were going to bat your eyelashes at me and I would be fucking you every night, so you can go out to the American people and sparkle because you got laid? You know maybe Thompson has a point. Maybe you are a fucking pretty boy who can't look past his own dick!" She yelled violent, shaking with anger.

Anger she had been feeling about her personal life falling apart. About Derek's cold treatment of her. Regret that she had gotten into that argument with Derek the morning after he left all those months ago, telling him to go fuck himself when he once again inquired about why she was so nervous about joining the campaign. Anger about the fact that she had even suggested that they take a break.

"Excuse me?" Fitz asked quietly. Olivia looked up at him. His eyes were steely with hurt. "What did you say?"

She walked away from him and then turned around. "I meant what I said"

"You think this is easy for me or better yet, that I brought you in here because I wanted to get in your pants? First thing first Liv, it was Cyrus's idea. Secondly, whether you even care, this hasn't been a walk in the park for me….to see you and pretend that everything that happened-" Fitz's voice was overcome with emotion, cracking with almost every word.

The whole thing just made Olivia sick. She had to hurt him, someone. She was embarrassed. She hated that Cyrus had outed her pain like that. Giving Fitz the upper hand. She wanted him to be jealous of how she and Derek. To torture him with the idea that they were getting back together. That she was happy will he was stuck with the ice queen.

"What did we have Fitz?" Olivia said through tears. "We had sex. Good, sex, hell even great sex. And then there were the lies. You got what you needed and I was there. That's it! So stop making this more than it was!"

Fitz stood with his mouth open. He ran his hand through his hair. She could see she was hurting him.

_Good, he needed to know what she felt. _

"How dare you tell me why I felt the way about you? Do you have any idea that I still think about you? It was more than just sex, Liv and you know that. What we had-"

"Fuck what we had. The next time you drive out of state to a clinic and have innocent life sucked out of you then talk to me about how hard it is!" She yelled. His face took on a look of shock.

"Wait what did you just say?"

"You heard me…"

"You-You had"

"I did what I had to do. Stop pretending like you don't know."

"I didn't"

She looked into his eyes. The hurt, the confusion it was all there. It had hit her in the gut. He really didn't know.

"Wait, how does Cyrus know and you don't that's-"

"Come on Liv, this is Cyrus! You really think he and I sit around discussing what happened? "

Olivia fell apart. She could not stop crying. Years of resentment, anger hurt and any shred of emotion overtook her. Fitz walked over to her, and did the last thing she had expected him to. He wrapped her arms around her, as she buried her wet face in his chest. Like she had done all those years ago whenever she needed him. The warmth of him, his strong arms enveloping her, expressing thoughts, feelings and longings he could not bear to say out loud. He rubbed a hand up and down her back to calm her down. She let go…

But she could feel wetness on her head…he was crying as well.

"Just, hold me, for a-"

"….one minute" he finished her sentence for her.

"How…how far along were you?" he whispered softly against her hair.

She was crying so hysterically that she could barely choke out an answer.

"It was that night…Camp David, Me-Mellie was out of town"

"I remember…I remember because you made love to me like I was the only man in the world, Livy. That was the night I felt like you were mine forever. When you told me you would love me forever, and I believed those words. I still do."

But at those words, Olivia broke the embrace. She looked at his face to see his tear stained face raptured with sorrow. She could not relive that night with him. She could not do this to herself again. She ran out the room, down the hall and into her own room. For the next few hours, she cried. Cried about what her life had come to, cried for the child never had. Cried for leaving a man behind that she more than the way she loved Derek. She cried because no matter what happened, she would always be _in _love with Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. And nothing would ever change that.

_I love you and I always will…._


	14. Chapter 14

Later that night….

Fitzgerald Grant was lying on his bed in his hotel room, alone. The television was on CNN but he had tuned everything out. He was way too preoccupied with the swarm of thoughts running through his head.

Liv's revelation had knocked him back on his feet. He did not even know if he could function properly, seeing that after she left, he laid on his bed and had not gotten up since. But he felt he had good reason to. It was not so much the news, but the way it had been delivered. To see her, standing in the very room he was lying in, crying and screaming had reminded him of all the reasons their relationship had not exactly been the best of ideas. The secrecy, the pain and the hurt had spiraled into a series of unfortunate events.

_I need to talk to her_. He thought to himself. It was the only way. There was just too much confusion. He needed to know if what had happen was her reason for leaving, how Cyrus knew and he did not? And most importantly, why she had spent four months lying to him about her relationship with her boyfriend?

He had to know….Mellie was staying in Virginia tonight. What would it hurt?

After a hot shower, a change of clothes and much deliberation later, Fitz had decided to put his plan into motion. He had a bottle of Johnny Walker delivered to his room. Liv was the only person he knew that could appreciate a good scotch. Even though he knew (or at least he remembered she was a wine person, wine could be misinterpreted. She would think he had ulterior motives.)

He looked at himself in the mirror for the last time. His hair, wet and curly was behaving. The blue button down he was wearing was casual enough to be comfortable in but formal enough where she would at least consider letting him in the door. Blue jeans, check, brown dress shoes, good.

_Grant, you are going to talk; you're not going on a date! _His subconscious screamed at him. He grabbed the bottle and made his way out of the room and down the hallway. As he approached room 514, he could feel his heart thumping in his throat. This was Liv…she was probably going to slam the door in his face.

_Okay, here we go._ He thought. He took a deep breath and firmly knocked on the door. Fitz stayed as still as possible, he could hear a soft shuffling that sounded like footsteps getting closer and closer by the second. Before he could even take his next breath, the door opened to reveal Olivia.

He was a bit confused. Mainly because he had never seen Olivia like the way he was seeing her now. The Olivia he was familiar with was always impeccably dressed, in an array of white suits and slacks. Her hair was always perfectly cascading in thick, glossy waves, framing her face. But now, standing plain faced with her hair tied in a ballerina style bun, in sweats he did not know how to react. Not because she was so casual, but because he had never seen her look as beautiful as she looked right now.

"Hi" she said softly. She was blinking slowly, her eyes looked a little red. _She still was crying._

"Umm…Hi" He coughed awkwardly and then showed her the bottle. "I come bearing gifts"

Her left eyebrow arched so high, Fitz feared it would disappear into her hairline. She clearly was not impressed.

"Okkkay…" Olivia said slowly.

Fitz cleared his throat and started over again. This was not going to be easy.

"Look, I know earlier today was-"

"Lousy, embarrassing and a clusterfuck of epic proportions." Olivia said deadpanning in a voice so void of any emotion that it gave Fitz the chills.

"Eh, something likes that…" he finished lamely. As he opened his mouth to say something else, Olivia started to close the door. But he was not going to let her do that. He did the only rational thing he could think to do. He looked up and down the hallway to check if the coast was clear, put out his free hand to block her from closing the door and scooped her off her feet, throwing Olivia over his shoulder like a caveman and made his way into the room.

"Will…you. Put…me…down, what the hell!" she screamed shocked. He carried her toward the bed and placed her on her bed.

Fitz walked toward the small sitting area and placed the bottle of scotch on the coffee table.

"What are you doing! Look if this is your idea-"

"Listen and you listen good. We haven't had a decent conversation in God knows how long. But we are going to do it tonight. We are going to clear the air, we are going to talk this out. You and I are adults. So if you have a problem with that, that's too damn bad because you and I are not leaving here until we get everything out on the table!" Fitz thought he sounded a little crazy. But he could not give a fuck.

She was looking at him with a combination between child-like curiosity and frightened bemusement.

"So let me get this straight. You come to _my _hotel room, bribe me with booze and are forcing me in here against my will? Tell me Mr. President, in this genius plan of yours, did you figure out how you were going to stop me from leaving my room if I wanted to? Or are you shooting from the hip?"

"I haven't really thought about it but I was hopping brute force or some kind of executive order would do." Fitz said sardonically.

She shook her head, smiling a bit.

"Okay Mr. President, you have my attention. So, what's the topic of discussion?"

"Everything Liv. Everything that's happened to me, to you. Why you have been avoiding me for the past few months, and-"

He ran his hand through his hair and began pacing the room.

"Maybe you should sit down." Olivia suggest quietly, motioning toward the sitting area as she walked across the room and sat down on one of the couches.

Fitz stopped pacing and walked over to the couch across from Olivia. Frankly, it was a little distracting sitting with her facing him. She looked so pretty. Was it even possible for a woman to look so pretty in grey sweats?

"Look-" Fitz stared in earnest, but as he started speaking, Olivia grabbed a glass from the coffee table and began pouring herself a drink. A really tall drink. Fitz could not help but stare at her as she gulped down a full glass of scotch like she had been trapped in a desert and deprived of water.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and then popped them open again. _What the hell was she doing?_

"Umm…Liv, if you don't mind me asking what the hell are you doing?" He was genuinely concerned. He had never seen anyone down a drink that fast.

"Preparing myself"

"For what?"

"For what we are going to discuss" she answered with a hint of annoyance as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He shook his head and put his face in his palm. Was Olivia this incapable of just having a conversation with him?

"Umm…I'm not asking you to give me your liver, Livy I'm asking you to talk to me. We don't even have to talk about what we talked about this afternoon, or about us or any of that. I just want to spend time with you. As a friend. I mean, I would prefer if we cleared the air, but to just have you look me in the eye, for once as Livy, Not Olivia the campaign strategist or the fixer, but Livy, my Livy, the woman used to make me laugh, and had a fundamental understanding of why Led Zeppelin was a better band than The Beatles."

At that comment, Olivia for the first time in years actually smiled. Not the fake smile she often used to mask her pain, her worry or discomfort. But that smile that let him know that the world in that moment was perfect because just looking at that smile makes him melt.

* * *

For the next couple of hours, Fitzgerald Grant and Olivia Pope became Fitz and Liv. They talked about everything under the sun. They left no stone unturned. She cried, he cried as Olivia unveiled the pain of her abortion. Her fear, going alone, the white walls, the horrifying feeling of dread. She talked about her relationship with Derek, much to Fitz's chagrin. Whenever she mentioned his name, she could see him flexing his jaw muscle. They had gone from sitting across from one another, talking awkwardly, to consoling each other in a warm in embrace while sitting next to each other to lying on top of Olivia's bed laughing hysterically, listening to 60's oldies on her IHome.

Suffice to say the bottle of scotch was almost gone.

"Ya know?" Fitz slurred, as he turned on his side to face Olivia who was lying on her back staring at the ceiling. "How many men have you been with?"

Olivia turned on her side to face him and smiled. She gave him a playful poke in his shoulder.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"That's why I'm asking, kid."

Olivia giggled, got up on her knees and sat back on her heels. Fitz thought in his inebriated haze she looked so sexy. Her lips were pouty and soft looking, her eyes gleaming with drunk contentment.

"I've had three." She said softly. She reached over to the side table and took a gulp from her glass.

Fitz laughed. Typical.

"Wow. I would never know" he said sarcastically, smiling widely. _Nice to know his Livy was prude…_

She took on a look of fake shock.

"Mr. President, are you calling me a prude, Look I was a romantic. Is that so shocking?"

"No. But I can't say I'm surprised."

"Oh, yeah, how's that?"

Fitz shot her a "do I even have to say?" look. Liv seemed to get it.

"Right. So, how many women have you been with?" Olivia asked, once again poking him playfully in the shoulder.

Fitz, threw his head back in laugher, lying on his back. He was too drunk to count…

"Do you mean just this month?" asked cheekily. He honestly could not remember. He had been sexually active since his teens, wild throughout his years at Stanford and Harvard. Even before he met Liv, during the early years of his marriage, he had done his dirt.

"Hey!" Olivia said reaching over to poke him in the shoulder again. Fitz playfully grabbed her finger before she could touch him and pretended as if he was going to bite her.

"You're such a caveman." Liv said giggling. She got off the bed, took a sip of scotch and walked to the middle of the room. Fitz looked up surprised that she could even stand up let alone walk. Livy had always had a greater tolerance for liquor than most women he knew.

The soft sounds of Jimmy Hendrix's "Voodoo Queen was permeating through the room. For a brief second, Fitz thought Olivia was going to start to dance. He sat up, feeling a little excited. Olivia had always been a great dancer…

But then, she started to do the unthinkable. Olivia pulled her hair out of its bun, letting loose a waterfall of black waves cascading to her shoulders. She then turned around, back facing Fitz and began….

_She must be really drunk. _Fitz thought as she pulled her sweatpants down revealing her firm ass in sexy pair of black lace panties. He was torn between wanting to look away and sitting back and watching the show.

He chose the latter.

"Did you know" Olivia said sultrily, slowly removing her sweatshirt to reveal a matching black lace bra, her cleavage spilling out, luxuriating the already delicious image of her half naked form. "That I was a gymnast. "

"Umm…no, but you were always pretty flexi…god lord…"

In the quickest instant, Olivia masterfully did a backward walkover. Her body sexily contorting as her legs walked over her head. Fitz felt himself getting hot. He did not know how much of this he could take.

"How-How long were you a gymnast?" he asked, his voice quivering like a school boy with a crush on a teacher."

She did another walkover, this time landing into a split. _Grant, pull it together…she's drunk._

There was no denying it to himself. Olivia was tempting…too tempting. He had never seen her do that kind of stuff before. Or any woman do that kind of stuff for that matter. He tried to think rationally, but his irrational brain was winning. And it was thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts about what he could do with an Olivia Pope capable of doing splits and walkovers…

"Oh, give or take 15 years. My parents were all about the extra-curricular activities…" she slurred as she got out of her split and strutted over toward the bed, and toward him.

"Umm…you never told me that."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Mr. President"

_You need to get out of here. She's drunk, you don't want to lose her trust. _

_But she can split, and do stuff I've only seen in-_

_If you are going to mend your relationship, leave!_

His brain was at war with itself. Olivia was getting closer…

_Oh MY God! She looks even better up close._ He thought as she sexily crawled onto the bed and straddled him. She brought her lips to his ear;

"You know, if you liked the show, you are going to love what I've got next" she said huskily.

Any indication of struggle had left Fitz's brain. It was shut down. And all he could do was wrap his arms around Liv and tilt his head back so her full, plump lips met his mouth.

Their lips clashed in a passionate kiss. She tasted so good. He could feel himself, stiff with excitement.

She broke the kiss and whispered in his ear. "I've always loved how big you were." With that, she softly began grinding her hips against him, giving Fitz the most pleasure he had in years.

_You can't do this…._

This time, it was not his sexual male brain or rational brain talking to him, it was his heart. He loved Olivia and had spent the last few years fantasizing about this moment. But it felt wrong. He wasn't going to cheapen the lovely night they had together like this.

He grabbed her by the wrists, pulled her off him, and ran out the room as fast as he possibly could, leaving her calling his name.

"Fitz! Where are you going?"

He got to his room, took a deep breath and took the longest cold shower in the world. When he stepped out the shower, still excited beyond belief, unable to get the images of the night's events out of his mind, a part of him, the very horny part of him regretted it.

_You are going to hate yourself in the morning. _He thought frustrated beyond belief. But it was for the best. Sure, he had not had sex in months. But it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth losing his Livy over.


	15. Chapter 15

A few hours earlier….

Mellie Grant was hardly in the mood. But like most of her life, she had done what was asked of her. When she was a little girl, she wanted to play a sport, but her mother insisted on her taking piano lessons. From that day on in her life, she had learned that doing what she was supposed to do was more important than doing what she wanted to do.

So it was not exactly a stretch for her to put on a smile and give a speech to military wives earlier that afternoon despite having the worst day. She and Fitzgerald had been arguing non-stop. Little biting comments here and there, under the breath comments and the like, but of course this was nothing new with them. Then she had to sit with through a stupid briefing with Olivia Pope of all people lecturing them on how to behave due to public perception.

Very nice…her husband's former mistress was lecturing her on family values. She was so glad she was in Virginia, away from her husband, meddling Cyrus and Miss holier than thou.

She was sitting in her hotel room, on her bed, cloaked in her favorite white Hermes robe. It had been a wedding gift from all those years ago. It had come with a slinky negligee but who was she kidding? Why would a woman who had not had sex in months need a negligee. It was tucked away in the back of her closet in their Santa Barbara ranch.

_But that's all going to change…._she thought bitterly.

She got up and picked up her blackberry and scrolled through her messages. She had a few from her Chief of Staff, Melissa informing her of the newly revised schedule.

_Thanks a lot, Cyrus_.

Then there was the usual stuff, Karen had a recital so she would have to fly out to her Massachusetts in about a week. And finally, there was her appointment with Julia Lopez. She was a Time Magazine reporter who her staff had set up to do an interview with.

She hated print interviews. At least with live ones she had some control over the perception of herself. But with print interviews, there was no context, no tone of voice. Just her words. But for the first time in years, she did not mind doing an interview because by the time she was done, what was supposed to be the TMS, or the Time Magazine special as her staff called it (fluff, biography and a hint of psychoanalysis) would turn into meeting.

A meeting where she would wave the tempting fruit of a book deal. Her old prep school roommate, Nancy Stein was one of the most respected book publishers in New York.

Julia was young, beautiful and an ambitious reporter. Mellie had done her research. The girl used to date Olivia's boyfriend, Derek Ramirez. All the more ammunition she needed. All Julia would have to do is make one phone call to Nancy and she put her, Mellie down as a reference. And Mellie would hand her the documents, making her sign a confidentiality contract promising she would never reveal her source...the girl would take all the blame. She hired the PI, she dug into her past...She would be a best selling author. How could she turn that down?

She had enough. The years of humiliation, neglect, and resentment. She was tired of being the accessory to a living Ken Doll while she wasted away a Harvard Law Degree, a career and a future. Mellie Grant no longer cared about her husband, if she could call him that. She wanted her own identity. And she could not stand another four years of living a lie. In two years, there would be a free Senate seat in California…

Four the past few months, she had hired a private investigator. He was a former Black Opts member with a reputation of being discreet. He had gathered a box full of evidence…

He had cracked the Camp David security footage and had gotten images of her husband and the fixer having romantic picnics on the grounds, there was also a weekends in their Cape Cod home Fitzgerald, love letters that her husband kept in his guitar case hidden in the back of his closet in the White House residence (she had her investigator make copies). He had snuck into her apartment leaving no trace, and made copies of her love letters as well. Good thing she was a busy woman.

He had also gotten hold of old text messages records from his secure phone line.

And then there was the golden jewel, Olivia Pope's medical records.

Mellie remembered that afternoon nearly a few months ago when the PI dumped the box in front of her in her East Wing office. She could still remember the boiling anger of seeing the pictures, clear as day of Fitzgerald and that whore sitting around on their patio…the one she had spent 3 years redecorating….The passionate love letters were she declared her undying devotion…

What made her sick more so than anything was how happy they were? While she would travel the country on his behalf, he was shacking up in their homes…in their beds. She always thought it hilarious that they thought they were so careful. And what had made her so angry was the audacity of them to bring Olivia back into their lives…it was that night, when Fitz had drunkenly ranted in his office that she made her decision.

She would have the public's sympathy. She was smart, capable and one of the most admired women next to Oprah, the Queen and Angelina Jolie. People loved her, thought her to be a woman of substance. Fitzgerald's career had been good. A very successful first term…that was good enough.

_Where there is a will, there is a way._ She thought bitterly.

There had been some nights were she wondered if this was a smart idea. But when she got unsure, she popped in a copy of the old sex tape into her laptop and listened…

Every moan, every grunt, every time Olivia screamed out in pleasure with an orgasm that Mellie should have gotten , her focus would sharpen. Every time he called her "Sweet Baby", that ridiculous term of endearment that was ladled all throughout in his silly little letters…her stomach would boil with anger.

_He's going to pay. _Mellie thought as she placed her phone on the side table, crawled under the sheets and attempted to fall asleep. And when she did, she had a dream about the day she would be sworn in as California's junior Senator. She would no longer be Mellie Grace Grant. She would be Senator Melody Grace Valmont.


	16. Chapter 16

The next day.….

They were in Pennsylvania. Olivia was not sure how that happened but it did. She was sleep deprived seeing that she had to be on the flight at 6:30 am. She had spent the day entire day in such a flurry of activity, from a meeting with the RNC about media budget, to a spin session via video with Chris Matthews (her hearing had not recovered) and going over the President's stump speech with his speech writer to include more language about his kids and wife.

She had so much to do that she had almost forgotten the night before. She had woken up, face down on her bed, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties, feeling like crap with a cramp in her groin. Luckily for her, years of working late hours as a crisis manager and political consultant had involved alcohol, so she did not get hung over the way she once did when she was younger. However, it did not mean she did not feel like crap. She had a dull headache, that despite six Advil's and 5 cups of coffee later.

Thankfully, her busy schedule had meant she only had run into Fitz twice; once before boarding the plane (she sat all the way in the back to avoid him) and the second time because she had to use the bathroom and she had seen him in the hallway right before he got on stage to give a speech to 15,000 screaming supporters. And now, she was standing backstage next to Cyrus, watching their boy electrify the crowd. Despite how great his speech was, it was doing nothing to headache any better. The cheering crowd wasn't helping either.

His voice was booming, through the field. He looked so good, shirtsleeves no tie, no blazer, his face was positively glowing. And the crowd! They were just eating him up with a spoon. This was the last campaign event of the day and as much as Olivia loved watching Fitz be "Charmer in Chief" as he was called on that Saturday Night Live skit that portrayed him as a cross between JFK and Cary Grant, she could not wait to lock herself in of her room and call it a day.

The unfortunate thing about having a high tolerance for alcohol was the fact that she could remember every little detail. How she painfully relived what had happened all those years ago, how he held her as she cried, whispering gently in her ear, how she secretly hoped he would spend the night. And most embarrassing of all, how she had pulled out lame gymnastic moves that she had not done since she was a teenager, how lame could she be? Lame enough to get a slight cramp in her groin.

"Olivia, Olivia!" Cyrus said, snapping his fingers in his her face.

Olivia shook her head, but that only made the throbbing in her head worse.

"Cyrus…could you not do that please? I have a killer headache." She said moaning, messaging her temples with her fingers.

"Long day, I know but this is the last event of the day. Just hold it together until the rope line. We may have some reporters who want questions." He said briskly. He was looking at her as though she was his whiny teenage daughter and she needed to clean her room.

Olivia took a deep breath. She had to tell him, someone. She would call Stephen, but he was probably busy and she could not afford to be on the phone right now.

"Look, I had a long night and I'm kind of reeling, so easy if you could retire the pit bull routine, Cy, I would greatly appreciate it."

Cyrus rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I know it's mean a while since you have been through the hustle and bustle of a campaign but I've been watching you today. And you are off your game. Dragging your feet, demanding coffee like a prima donna? You know if I did not know your better, I would say you and the Ice Bitch and traded places…"

Olivia's felt her eyes widen. Since when did Cyrus disparage the wife?

"Okay, the world is officially coming to an end when you hate Mellie out loud. I thought the two of you were kindred spirits or something. I mean I know what happened yesterday, but this is the second time in about two days you've cursed her out."

"Yeah, well, that was before she made my life a living hell after you left. This is why I brought you back, for revenge and for other reasons as well." Cyrus said staring ahead at Fitz, who was still giving his speech. Olivia's head turned slowly in Cyrus's direction. _She was brought back to be a sticking point in Mellie's side_.

Cyrus turned to look at Olivia, rolling his eyes once again. "You know, sometimes, it makes sense, you and the President, are you really that naïve? Come on! Miss Icy Twat is a pain in his and my ass. She's made him miserable Liv; I mean there were days he could barely get out of bed when you left again. If you saw him, if you had any how fucked up he was, you know we were actually considering a therapist, discreet, paid off, that kind of thing. Drinking, the insomnia, it was interfering with everything I worked for. You know he fell asleep during a fucking foreign policy briefing? And then it hit me. He needed something to inspire him…."

Olivia felt her mouth drop open. She looked from Cyrus, who was still watching Fitz speak as though he had not just unloaded a mountain of shock onto her and back at Fitz again. Great, just what she needed. More stress…

"Umm…so you would not kill me if I told you that I pulled a Demi Moore in "Striptease" last night with Mr. Golden boy?" Olivia inquired in a hushed whisper.

Before she knew it, Cyrus was dragging her from backstage, out the door into the hallway and shoved her into the nearest bathroom. By the looks of things she was fortunately in the ladies room.

" Ow,You realize this is a woman's bathroom, and I have a cramp in my groin okay?" Olivia said shocked. Her headache wasn't getting any better.

"Check the bathroom stalls to see if anyone is in here." Cyrus said forcefully. She bent down, checking for feet the coast was clear. Cyrus locked the door to the entrance and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. She was in trouble.

"You know, this is NOT supposed to happen. Did you not learn anything from last time? When I brought you back I was kind of hoping you would cheer him up, make him smile, make him sparkle. I did not think you would be stupid enough to rekindle this whole forbidden love routine you have going!"

Olivia bit her lip nervously. Cyrus's face was beet red and his was breathing so hard, she feared he would burst a vessel.

"Cy, calm down, okay? Think about your arthritis."

"Oh, to hell with my arthritis Liv, really? You slept with him again? What about everyth-"

"Will you keep your voice down? Dear god, you're so busy freaking out did you forget people might hear you? And besides I still have a bit of a hangover-"

At the word "hangover" Liv thought Cyrus's eyes would pop out of his head and end up on the floor.

"Great, so you got drunk, stripped and then slept with him? Did you at least use a condom this time around?"

Olivia could not believe what she was hearing. Who said anything about sleeping with anyone?

"I DID not sleep with him. We got a little drunk, talked about some things and I stripped." She said nervously. She was wringing her hands.

"Like that's so much better!" Cyrus seethed through gritted teeth. "Well, I'm hoping he put a few dollars in your tassels. After all, your Manolos are not going to pay for themselves."

Olivia rolled her eyes and folded her arms frustrated. This was not making her feel any better.

"Let's get a few things straight, I did a few fancy gymnast moves and took my clothes off and strippers have not worn tassels since before you were born! We did not sleep together, kiss, yes we did but that was it. You should be proud, he ran out the room faster than you could say "horny". And secondly, who wears Manolos anymore? These are Giuseppe Zanottis, okay!" She said pointing at her tan peep toed stilettos.

"Really? Really Liv?"

"Hey, I pay good money for my shoes. I'd be damned if you get them wrong. Look, I missed him. I still miss him. I just needed him to want me again. Do you know how unbelievably_ adorable _he is when he's all twitchy and nervous? I almost closed the door in his face because he was so cute I could not handle it. And he's even sexier when he's drunk. I couldn't help myself. And yeah, a part of me was really horny and I haven't had sex with anyone in like five months, but I just-"She trailed off. She sounded ridiculous. But surprisingly enough Cyrus's face softened.

"Look, Liv We are both adults, okay? I've gotten over the whole Rielle Hunter situation. Minus the pregnancy but I just want you to be careful. I know what happened last time to you Liv…you're like a daughter to me. I…do you know how hard it was to find out that you got a…"

He choked up. Olivia felt herself becoming overcome with emotion. She was touched.

"When we had to look into you, I saw your medical records…it wasn't my place to say anything." He finished, his voice quivering. He looked to the ceiling as if he were going to cry.

She could feel tears seeping gently out of her eyes. That explained it…Cyrus approached Olivia and placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"Cyrus I love him." she said softly.

"I know, that's why you're here. He needs something to keep him going Liv. And you are that someone. He lights up whenever he talks about you. But if you are going to do this again, I need you both to be careful, for your sake and his. Believe me it could get very bad." He said, his tears slowly falling down his face.

Olivia whipped away her tears with the back of her palm. She smiled. After all these years, after all they had been through, it was nice to know Cyrus was still like a father to her.

"Believe me." she said smiling through her tears. "It's never bad with Fitz." She wiggled her eyebrows provocatively. Cyrus laughed heartily.

"Really?" he said with humored curiosity. "That good, huh?" Olivia laughed, giving Cyrus a playful smack on the arm, before walking toward the paper towel dispenser and grapping them both towels.

"What?" Cyrus said smiling, taking the paper towel from Olivia and dabbing his cheeks with it. "I've always been curious, that's all."

"He's like, your son Cy!"

"Ha! Hey, I maybe professional, but I'm not blind. So how-"

"Hey, that's all I'm telling. But thanks for being understanding." Olivia felt warm with relief. That was the old Cyrus she knew and loved. She gave him hug.

"No problem Liv, just word to the wise. You a damn condom next time…" He said, placing a kiss on her forehead and tussling her hair as they made their way out the room.

"Hey watch the hair." She laughed.

* * *

Little did they know that Julia Lopez, in bad need of the bathroom, had been waiting outside and had overheard their conversation. She scurried off as soon as she heard them walking toward the door and into the nearest broom closet.

Jackpot! She thought to herself. Now she had a story…..


	17. Chapter 17

A few days later…

Julia Lopez had spent the past few months investigating Olivia Pope. She had co-worker, Peter Nam who worked in Time's IT department and had a hobby for hacking look into Olivia's past, along with Derek, when he wasn't busy campaigning with his father and Senator Thompson across the country. He came to Julia's apartment late at night along with Derek and they would have cram sessions trying to figure out Olivia's secret.

They did credit checks, looked into academic records, and the like. But unfortunately, their day jobs kept them from getting too deep. She had been travelling a few days out of the week to cover the Grant campaign. So normally, whatever updates she got were brief text messages from Derek or Peter.

From what they gathered (and it was all they could gather), Olivia had made a handful of sporadic trips to Camp David, the Cape and Santa Barbara during her time at the White House. She normally would be driven or would fly to the locations incognito, renting private cars or small charter planes under the name Ingrid Valmont. The only thing they could gather was the debit card she was using was linked to a small Santa Barbara bank. While it had reinforced the nagging suspicion she had about the President's relationship with Olivia, she had never expressed this out loud to Derek.

Despite their mutual goal of getting to the bottom of Olivia's past, Derek was still harboring feelings for Olivia. Julia could tell…despite their falling out months ago, rendering any communication between the two moot, Derek still spoke of his ex in high regards, often expressing how painful their break-up was.

But a few instances in which they went out for a friendly meal around town had turned into a rumor that Julia and Derek were back together. It had even become a blind item in the Washington Post. Julia could remember that morning being elated with joy. Even if they were not back together, at least Olivia would think they were.

"Maybe these meetings were just about the hostage situation in North Korea a few years back?" she remembered Pete inquiring one night over pizza and beer. They had been relentlessly digging and had come up empty once again.

"I mean that was a pretty sensitive case, and Olivia is a fixer right? They were obviously talking strategy, trying to spin the whole thing? This would be controversial because spinning international crises would have made Grant look politically craven. I know Liv…" Derek said quietly that night.

On the surface, it seemed like a valid argument….

Or at least it had until about a week ago when she had overheard the conversation in the bathroom between Olivia Pope and Cyrus Beene. _It all made sense._

That very night, she began her own digging, making phone calls, calling contacts that could help her out. She had spent the night in her hotel room, pouring over papers and flashcards pulling the pieces together. A simple glance of Fitzgerald Grant III's Wikipedia page revealed that his mother's middle name was Ingrid and First Lady's maiden name (which was common knowledge anyway) was Valmont.

_Of course, they were using a fake name!_

It would make sense…Presidents normally could not use their real names on credit cards or debit cards for private purchases…

The president had been footing the bill for secret rendezvouses.

But that wasn't enough proof…. Eavesdropping and a debit card a scandal did not make….

* * *

She was waiting in the sitting room outside the First Lady's office. Julia had work to do after all. As intriguing as her new development was, she still had to do her _real_ job. Although she had to admit, felt out of place in the East Wing, seeing that she was wearing her signature black turtle neck, skinny jeans, beat up messenger bag and her favorite Ralph Lauren riding boots. The staff in the East Wing were dressed in pearls and expensive cashmere sweaters. They all looked like miniature Mellie Grants.

_I suppose that's the point. _Julia thought smugly. _Daddy's little girls who were presidents of College Republicans waiting to meet their Fitzgeralds at a Washington function. _

She had no regard for these types of women. The spoiled princesses, who got plum jobs in the White House because of connections, were all the same. They were pretty and charming…like Olivia Pope, reared in privilege and brought up and to be put ahead.

"Miss Lopez, the First Lady is ready for you." A perky executive assistant that Julia vaguely remembered from a working cocktail dinner ushered her into the First Lady's office. The office was beautiful, decorated in pastel colors and rich creams.

_The whole thing looked like something decorated by Martha Stewart…_Julia thought sardonically. The First Lady herself looked as prim and pretty as she always did. But Julia had to admit. For all her confidence and indifference to women like her, she was not only beautiful, she was intimidating. She was dressed in a figure hugging royal blue sheath dress, matching flats and had her hair up in a neat up do. Her eyes were so clear and blue, Julia felt as though she were looking through to her soul.

"Good morning Ms. Lopez. Sit" she said. Her voice had an icy edge.

_This woman was no joke. _Julia thought. It was as though she had entered a snake pit. She ran a nervous hand through her sandy blond shag.

Julia gulped slightly. "Good morning Mrs. Grant." She began taking her note pad and recorder out of her bag.

"Julia, may I call you Julia?" The First Lady asked sweetly, leaning back in her white leather chair.

"Sure."

"Put your things away, this interview will not happen now. I will do a phone interview with you later today and you will pretend as though you are did it now. Right now we have more pressing matters to discuss." She said in a quiet voice so void of emotion, Julia felt goose bumps rise on her skin….

Julia was confused? What the hell? It's not like she wanted to be here…she could be on the campaign trail, covering real news. She could be investigating Olivia Pope, potentially becoming the next Bob Woodward. It was her editor's fault she was even doing this god forsaken fluff piece. But despite it all, she heeded her demand. A part of her feared what would happen if she did not abide by this woman.

_Fucking June Cleaver._ Julia thought as she sat with her mouth open. The First Lady smiled, not baring her teeth, her eyes still as cold and piercing as ever. Did she know what she was thinking? Mellie Grant got up from her seat; made sure the door was locked and sauntered back to her desk. She continued to stare that stare of hers.

Why was Julia still sitting in her seat? This whole thing was creepy. This woman was so, cold and sweet at the same time. This article would be a lot more interesting than anticipated.

"Julia Agnes Lopez. You were born September, 19th 1978 in Our Lady of Mercy Hospital, Bronx NY. Your mother, a nursing assistant, died 10 years ago while you were at a student at Columbia University getting your Masters in Journalism. Never knew your father, got an internship at Time and have been working there ever since. You have had 15 sexual partners, and most importantly you used to date Derek Ramirez, who until quite recently was dating a woman we both have a vested interest in taking down…"

Ms. Grant had delivered with this soliloquy as casually as one would ask about the weather…why did this woman have her investigated and why was she interested in bringing down Olivia Pope?

"Ma'am I don't know what –"She cut her off with a simple raised hand. She blinked very slowly, almost like a predator approaching its prey. She sat back, twirling her diamond wedding ring. Her nails were painted a bloody red…

"I know you have been investigating Olivia Pope because I have been too. I have a man; smart man who works for me, has been doing background checks and you have been sloppy. Bad hacking, leaving traces…you and I have a lot in common." She picked up her the office phone, pressed a button and paused…

"Hi, Becky, send some tea to my office, Green with lemon, Thank you!" she said in a voice so artificial and in contrast to the coldness that she had been displaying, Julia felt her mouth hang open again. Ms. Grant hung up the phone and slowly blinked once more.

"Now, where were we…ah, yes, Mrs. Pope? We've both had men in our lives taken from us by this woman. Painful isn't it, you work hard in your relationship and Miss Perfect sweeps in and gets the fruits of your labor." She said so quietly, there was almost a snake-like hiss to her tone.

Julia could not believe this! She knew? She knew all this time? What kind of woman was this? She could feel her blood turn cold. This woman was sick!

"Ms. Grant, I don't know what is going on but-"

Once again, she raised her hand…

"I'm going to cut to the chase. Look to your left." Julia's head snapped immediately to her left and saw, sitting on a cream ottoman was a stack of folders neatly piled on top of each other. It looked like there were three. Manila folders. One was green, one was pink one was blue. There was also a small leather duffle bag.

"That is everything you need to know. You take this bag, it is your research. In a few days, you will receive an envelope on top the coffee table, the one with the wobbly leg in your apartment. In order to use this information, you sign the confidentiality agreement in this envelop. Do not show it to anyone. Read it over yourself, no lawyers, no legal counsel. If you so much as show Mr. Ramirez or tell anyone about the nature of this meeting…I will ruin you. In the duffle bag is a USB disk. It has a recommendation letter for Nancy Stein. You email it to her and she will mail you your book contract. Spend the next year or so writing a book. Change names-"

A knock came at the door. Ms. Grant got up gracefully and unlocked the door, revealing a redhead miniature version of Ms. Grant with a sliver tray containing a teapot and two red teacups. She nervously placed the tray on the desk and scurried out. As soon as the door closed, Ms. Grant locked the door. She walked back over to the desk, this time not sitting down. She stood towering, over a shaken Julia with arms folded.

"Like I was saying, you write a book. A narrative. You do not write a biography. It will be limited to the affair between the President and Ms. Pope. A roman à clef, if you will."

She leaned into Julia; Julia could feel herself shaking with fear. Ms. Grant's pretty face was inches from her own, her crisp, almost masculine perfume engulfing her space. Those eyes cold with hate.

"Our meeting is over, Ms. Lopez. Do as I say or life becomes difficult for you. Do as I say or you never work in this town again. You become a joke, a topic of fun. I will have things planted about you. A sick girl with an obsession with my husband. Is that clear?"

Julia shook her head frightfully. She slowly slide out of her chair, she dashed toward the ottoman in the corner and stuffed her bag with the folders, grabbed the duffle bag and made her way out of the East Wing, the White House as fast as she possibly could.

* * *

When Julia got home, she took a shot of vodka. She was needed to calm down. From her cab ride home, even handing in her walk-on pass, she had been shaking her mind racing. But one shot was not enough. After a few more, a shower and some work to calm her down, she tried to do anything and everything to not think about the duffle bag and the folders in her bag.

But it did not work. She cleaned her small apartment, trying to shake her fears.

_She had someone break into her apartment…_

_How else would she know about her wobbly table? Dear god! What had she gotten herself into?_

For the first time in weeks, she cooked. Made lasagna….but that still did not work. Before she knew it, she was locked up in her bedroom, shades down, plowing through the evidence.

Phone calls were tapped. Flirtatious, sex-fueled phone calls. It made her sick to her stomach. To hear the leader of the free world talking about how he loved his cock sucked. How tight Olivia's privates were. How he loved it when she screamed his name…

The proclamations of love….The dirty text messages. The passionate love letters in which Olivia declared how his love making had made her feel like the only woman in the world.

The countless pictures marked with times, stolen from hotels across the country, showing these two smart, powerful people, sneaking into one another's room like teenagers…

And finally the security footage, her wearing an oversized Harvard tee shirt, him in his boxers kissing passionately in a sprawling kitchen.

The ranch in Santa Barbara...Horseback riding, swimming naked at night in what looked like a man made lake.

The Camp David file…

The picnics, they curled into intimate embraces whispering in one another's ears. Sipping wine. Slow dancing. His hands running all over her body.

The foot massages, the kisses…it was way too much.

After hours of watching, reading and listening, Julia ran into the bathroom and threw up….

The whole thing was sick. How did they carry this on for so long? How did she become a part of this scheme? She slid down her bathroom wall, weak from her puking her guts out and cried, shaking with fear….

_Life as she knew it was over….._


	18. Chapter 18

Election Night….

The "Western White House" as the media had dubbed, was packed with the finest of the Republican elite tonight. The Grants Santa Barbara ranch was a beautiful Mediterranean ranch sprawled over acres of plush green land. It had a guest house bigger than most homes, a manmade lake, a horse stable and a private hiking trail.

The actual home in itself resembled a Spanish villa of yesteryear, romantic and picturesque, surrounded by palm trees. The whole place was serene and peaceful. A lush fantasy getaway that felt more like a luxurious resort than an actual home.

Olivia Pope had been to the home on numerous occasions. Mostly work related during her time for the campaign and the White house, seeing that the Grant's had been kind and opened their home to her. But of course that had more to do with her relationship with the President than anything else. But she had had her fair share of secret visits as well…

Olivia had grown up well, in a big white home in Virginia with a swimming pool. And then there was her parent's home in the Vineyard, a beautiful estate in Oaks Bluff, the historically African-American portion of the island. But she had never really gotten used to the out-of-this world wealth of the Grants. Sitting in the kitchen, sipping mojitos with Cyrus waiting for the election returns, she still could not get over the fact that the kitchen was two stories.

_After all this time, it still felt good to come here. _She thought. For some odd reason, this house felt like a home to her. She and Fitz had created so many beautiful memories.

"I'm getting good word about Ohio!" Cyrus said punching the air triumphantly as he scrolled through his blackberry. His voice echoed through the kitchen. Most of the guest, including the elder Grants and the First Lady's family were downstairs watching CNN in the family theater room. There was catered food and wine but Cyrus and Olivia had an Election Day routine of separating themselves from the chaos until the actual results were announced.

The election season had been stressful, exhausting and oddly satisfying. Olivia had found the whole experience rewarding. From her infamous takedown of an obnoxious pundit on MSNBC (now a famous YouTube moment), to Fitz's dazzling convention speech, the election was in the bag. A part of her feared going back to Pope & Associates again. Sure it was her real job, and she missed her gladiators, but she had a blast.

She remembered the night when Fitz and the whole entire staff reenacted the bar scene in _Top Gun_, singing The Righteous Brother's "You've Lost that Loving Feeling" to her on her birthday the night after Senator Thompson and Fitz's first debate. How Fitz and her and become friends. Not that they weren't before, but how they stayed up late at night, in bars, hotel lounges talking, drinking and laughing. Olivia found herself telling him stories about her childhood, college years, even promising to bring her mother to visit him in the White House if he won. All things they had not discussed years ago. While they had always declared their love, it felt nice to know him as only a friend this time around.

"I'm getting word that Ohio is-"but before Olivia could finish her sentence, her phone was being over flooded with text messages for them to get downstairs.

She looked up at Cyrus and smiled, his face lit up. They won. Fitz had won re-election!

They ran, scurrying quickly down the hallway and down the stairs in a frenzy. Olivia could hear the cheering growing louder and louder with each step. When they finally hit the lowest floor, there was a crowd of people spilling out of the over crowed theatre room. There were men in suits and women in pearls cheering "Four more years, Four more years!" loudly.

"Yes!" Cyrus celebrated loudly. He placed a big kiss on Olivia's cheek. Olivia laughed with excitement.

_Wow! We did it_! She thought happily. They made their way through the crowd and into the theatre, where the man himself was locked in a hug with his mother, his father patting his shoulder approvingly. Elizabeth Grant, an elegant woman dressed in a crisp, white skirt suit had tears running down her face.

"Oh darling, this is wonderful!" She said, her Boston Brahmin accent drowned out with tears of joy.

"Thanks Mother" Fitz said happily, his face spread in a stunning smile. And then there was his father, tall, handsome and grey. Olivia imagined that is what Fitz would like in 30 years. He was dressed in a dark suit, leaning on his mahogany walking cane.

"There's the president!" Cyrus yelled triumphantly. The crowd cheered once again. Fitz broke from his parents turned to Cyrus and Olivia. He gave Cyrus a warm hug. Cyrus was so happy, he tussled Fitz' hair, causing Fitz's parents to laugh warmly. But Olivia noticed something rather odd.

_ Where was Mellie?_

But right now, she could not worry about that. There were more important things. Olivia walked over to a chair, stood on top and yelled at the still jubilant crowd.

"Okay, okay guys, I need everyone to start heading out, the cars are waiting. We need to make it to the hotel for the President's speech. Come on, let's go!" The crowd instantly began spilling out. Olivia looked over to Fitz, Cyrus and the Grants still locked in conversation. She saw Cyrus motion for Fitz to follow his parents and him out the room, but Fitz shook his head. Now that the crowd had thinned significantly out the room, she heard the words "Be right there soon."

Olivia got off the chair and walked slowly toward the President. His back was to her, his hands in his pocket, looking at his large face sprawled on the projection screen with the words "PRESIDENT GRANT RE-ELECTED" under it.

"For the first time in years, I think my dad is proud of me" Fitz said quietly as she stood next to him taking the moment in along with him.

She could not help but smile. She knew how good that must have made him feel. She looked up at him. But instead of an expression of enthusiasm she had been expecting, there was sullenness to his face. As though he were disappointed somehow. The deep lines in his handsome face seemed more pronounced. It was as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

"I seriously doubt that." Olivia said quietly as she Fitz turned to face her. "Congrats by the way."

He smiled shaking his head, amused. _Why did he seem so calm? _

"You've done it again, Ms. Pope" he said, winking at her. She felt her stomach do a backflip.

She chuckled softly and ran her hands through her hair.

"Well, if I had it my way, this whole shindig would be celebrated at the White House. Much more presidential."

"Yeah, but if we did, you wouldn't be able to spend the night in a house with a view this beautiful." He joked back. Olivia could tell there was something behind his comment. She could see it in his eyes. His eyes were dancing playfully in the dimly light room.

"Where's Mellie?" she asked, trying to prevent an inappropriate joke from spurning out of what he just said. He had a naughty habit of making innocent comments sound so sexy. Despite many late nights, Fitz and Olivia had kept their relationship this time around strictly platonic. And she intended to keep it that way. They had a rough start but it had been smooth sailing since that awkward drunk gymnast incident. And she was not planning on ruining that.

"She got a head start." He said approaching her closely. Approaching her was an understatement. More like swaggered his way into her personal space. She tried to breathe but his cologne had engulfed her senses, her thoughts and her ability to reason. It was fresh and masculine with a woody touch. That smell…it made her weak, bringing back memories of hot nights in this house and passionate moments lost in his presence. He was so close, she could count the freckles on his nose. He got those when he was in the sun to long.

_Olivia! Run!_

But she could not, she stood rooted in the spot, gapping for air, she put her head down to avoid his deep, penetrating gaze. Fitz took his hands out of his pocket and lifted her head gently. He slowly lowered his head to her ear, causing Olivia to flinch. She was getting warm. There was a tingle in between her legs becoming more frenzied as lips gently brushed her ear.

"uh…Fitz…we should…go, someone might…." She started, her voice practically a moan.

"Livy…."he whispered. At this she could feel her knees getting weaker by the second. It felt so good being so near. Yet it was agony that they had obligations. Her rational brain was drowned out by her need to have Fitz, to be close to him, to act on months of pent up desire, months of fantasizing. She did not care. Fuck Mellie, fuck her morals. She needed him.

"I'm not going to pretend like I'm thrilled about this. Another four years of this circus. So as a way of making it up to me, you are going to give me what I've been obsessing about for months. I love you, Liv and I want you, one last time. I need you. Something new for me to have the nights when I will hate this job, when I can't sleep. I want to think back to this night and know it was worth it. After the speech, when we get back, I'll be in your room. Leave the door of the guest house unlocked. I'll have it arranged for Cyrus to sleep in the main house…and tonight, I'm going to do everything I've been dying to do since you stripped for me…" he breathed sensually, almost like he was so overcome with the thought of her, it was strangling him.

Olivia did the most natural thing she could do, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. He tasted like something fruity…strawberries maybe. His tongue softly exploring her mouth as she sucked on his well-defined upper lip. The kiss itself had sent her nerves into kinetic haywire.

_Had she really wanted him that bad?_

But as he moaned in her mouth, she snapped out of her haze of desire.

"We should probably go. Mr. President, your speech" she said out of breath."

"Yeah, we should."

* * *

The speech had gone off like gang busters. The crowd had been electric, the breezy California night ideal for the supporters, as the press snapped their bulbs and reporters took in every word, over analyzing every syllable. Most of the supporters at the party, including the elder Grants and Mellie's parents had headed home. There was only Olivia, Cyrus and James, who had been staying at a hotel earlier (to not appear to have a conflict of interest) left on the Grants' Ranch. Mellie, despite playing it up for the cameras had been icy all night. She did not partake in the get together after the speech that occurred in the kitchen. She had gone straight to bed, giving her husband a cold peck on the cheek and a hissed "Congratulations".

Despite the good conversation and jokes from Cyrus and James, she could handle the tension between her and Fitz. He kept staring at her like he wanted to devour her whole. For a crazy second, she wanted to march across the island and kiss him. So she had headed back to her room in the guest house. Thankfully, Cyrus was headed back to the hotel with James so she did not have to worry about privacy.

The guest house was the main house in miniature, same oak paneling and elegant furniture. There was a spiral staircase to the rooms upstairs. Olivia headed to her room, a spacious master bedroom with a beautiful view of the lake and a full moon. She went into the glimmering bathroom and stood in front of the full mirror. Her hair was a little messy, she had worn no make-up today.

_Maybe I should wearing something sexy._

She smiled at herself. Tonight, she was did not care. She was going to indulge in her favorite past time. Screw the preparation, screw being perfect. Before she could do anything else, she heard a knock on the door.

She opened the bathroom door to see none other than Fitz, leaning against the door frame.

He smirked, and before she knew it, he had her up against the wall, having his way with her.

* * *

"Mmm…this feels nice" Olivia said softly as Fitz littered her neck with soft kisses. They were sitting in the bathtub, soaking in a hot bubble bath. She was sitting in between his legs, her back to him. His muscular arms holding lovingly. Nothing could be more perfect.

"I wish we could do this more." He whispered in her ear. She giggled, giddy with the high of his presence. This all felt so natural. Like the old days…his arms wrapped her as they sat in the tub after hours of love making. It was nice that they were creating new memories.

"Do what more, the bath tub or other things."

"Well," Fitz began, his voice hitting that husky level that always drove Olivia wild. "I was hoping we could maybe continue congratulating me on my victory."

Olivia turned around in the bathtub to face his smiling face. It was the size of a jacuzzi, spacious and round, giving her enough room to straddle him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I thought you were talking about the tub, pervert" she said smiling.

_Leave it to Fitz to make everything sexual._  
He rolled his eyes.

"Hey!, I have you, in a nice warm bath covered in nothing but bubbles, you really think I'm thinking about anything else?"

"Well, there's always that election that you just-" But before she could speak any further, Fitz began kissing Olivia so tenderly, she felt herself getting aroused again.

He broke away from the kiss and whispered against her lips. "I don't want to hear any talk about that tonight, Livy. I want us, this for as long as possible. Because tomorrow, we go back to our lives, and you leave me again." His face took on a look of slight worry, his brow furrowing.

"Babe…" she started slowly, his face took on a quizzical look.

"You haven't called me that in years. Have I told you how much I like it when you call me names?"

"Yeah?" she said smiling brushing her nose playfully against his.

"Yeah, I do but you know what I would love?"

"No, what?"

His eyebrow arched jovially and he slowly buried his head in her neck, sucking on her most sensitive spot. Even through the water, she could feel his growing excitement.

"Can, you pay attention? For like five minutes?" she asked laughing.

"No". He said muffled. She could hear the laughter in his voice. "I love it when you call me Mr. President."

She could not help but laugh. How could he be so infuriating and irresistible at the same time.

"I thought you hated it when I called you that." Olivia inquired.

"Well, yeah outside of a sexual context."

"Ha! Mr. Picky" she said, closing her eyes, enjoying Fitz's mouth against her neck. His lips were so soft. After all this time, he still knew her better than anyone ever would.

She pulled away from him and gently moved back toward the other side of the tub.

"Hey, what was that for? I was putting down my best stuff!" Fitz said laughing.

She stuck her tongue out at him, splashing him with some water. "That's what you get for being picky and pervy."

"Huh. The two p's, I see." For a moment he pulled an exaggerated sad face, looking like a sad puppy. But before Olivia knew it, Fitz grabbed her arm, causing her to shriek with laughter as he dragged her back toward him and kissed her soundly. Olivia straddled him once more and broke the kiss, putting her lips to his ear.

"Mmm…what do you say…we..." Fitz said huskily as Olivia began nibbled on his ear. But he was too distracted to finish his sentence properly.

* * *

They were cuddled in her bed. After another lovemaking session in the tub (they had pruned, much to Olivia's chagrin), they had dried off and made it to the bed. But they were not tired. This was unusual seeing that they had both had a long day but they needed to dwell in each other's presence because when the sun rose, everything would go back to the way things were. No matter how many times she called Fitz by his name, it would not be enough.

No matter how many times Fitz kissed Olivia tenderly, calling her "Sweet Baby", it did not erase the pain of knowing that in the morning, she would go back to Washington D.C and be the crisis manager. And he would be the President once more.


	19. Chapter 19

Three years later

It was a beautiful summer evening in Washington D.C, and Olivia Pope was exhausted. She had been working non-stop for the past week on a case involving a superstar basketball player being accused of murdering his mistress. She was sitting in the spacious conference on the third floor of _Pope & Associates._ Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail; her brown eyes red with fatigue as she sat back listening to Abby Whelan, who paced back and forth the room, rattling off the facts of the case again.

"Okay, we've got the facts-"Stephen Finch intervened from the chair across the table. He had his suit jacket off, his tie was loose and he was growing a five o'clock shadow.

"Yeah but the facts are what we need to focus on. Look at the angle the stab wound is." Huck said quietly, standing in front of the I.S display or "Important Shit" display as the team called it. It was a large board that they used to pin pictures, evidence, and affidavits when reviewing a case.

"So?" Harrison Wright said perplexed. "In a moment of heightened anger, I seriously doubt the dude was thinking about how he was going to fucking stab the woman he was fucking with! He's thinking I need to kill this woman before my wife finds out!"

Huck ran a frustrated hand over his face, rolling his eyes. Olivia shook her head, smirking slightly. It was amusing at times to see the differences in approach between her team. She and Harrison often took the psychological analysis approach, trying to enter the mindset of the players. Abby and Stephen often relied on their legal sense and Huck was the forensic mind. They had approached the gridlock portion of the game where they were arguing about the hardest part to figure out in a murder case: motive.

"Look!" Olivia said interjecting before the team divulged into _Clash of the Titans_. "Why don't we call it a night? We can pick this up on Monday. All of you take the weekend off." She finished wearily, rubbing her temples.

The team exchanged looks of utter confusion. _Since when did Olivia Pope give them time off during a murder case?_

"Olivia, are you feeling okay?" Abby asked confused.

She smiled. Typical.

"Yes, I'm okay but I'm worn out. We've been taking on a lot and I just want to be a nice boss. Besides, you and Stephen need to spend more time together away from the office." Olivia said, gathering her papers and getting up.

Stephen laughed, running a hand over his five o'clock shadow. "Believe me Liv, the last thing I need is for Abby to be running around the house restless, she'd drive me up a wall."

Abby crumbled a piece of paper in her hand and threw it across the room at laughing Stephen.

"Hey! You keep talking like that and you'll be sleeping outside!" Abby said loudly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Whatever, goodnight guys." Olivia said laughing, heading out the door and into the elevator.

* * *

The truth of the matter was she immune to hard work. That was not the reason why she was taking the rest of the evening or even the weekend off.

Mellie was on a tour of Europe on official First Lady duties along with the kids, Karen and Jerry. And Olivia and Fitz were going to spend four glorious days in the Fitzgerald, the Grant's Cape Cod house.

Despite their very valiant (and failed) attempts to go on after the glow of Fitzgerald's re-election, Fitz and Olivia had continued their affair. They had been very careful this time, meticulous even. So much to the point that they were sure Mellie did not even now. (That was according to Fitz anyway.) And so far so good…The thought of spending languid days in bed with her lover made her face spread into a smile.

As she walked into her office, she was startled to see Stephen, sitting at her desk, wearing a look of irritation.

"Umm…Stephen", Olivia began, confused. "What are you doing here?"

He rolled his eyes and got out of the leather chair, placed his hands in his pockets and started pacing the room. He sighed deeply.

"I just find it interesting that you are out of here on at five o'clock on a Thursday night, giving your main partners and yourself a weekend off while the First Lady of the United States has tea overseas." He said his voice cold ans sharp. _What the hell was this, a deposition?_

Olivia rolled her eyes as she stalked to her desk, dropped her papers and began to put her cell phones and important papers in her large, Chloe bag. She avoided eye contact with him by rearranging her purse unnecessarily.

"Look, it's just a weekend-"

"Yeah, one of many." Stephen said coldly, walking over to the desk and grabbing her wrist, forcing her to pay attention to him.

Olivia could not believe him. What the hell?

"What is your problem, Stephen?" Olivia asked angrily, snatching her hands away and continuing to fuss with her purse.

"What my _problem_ is? My problem is keeping this secret Liv, my problem is for nearly 8 years this guy has turned my strong, independent best friend into a love sick concubine who drops everything whenever his wife is out of town. And most importantly, you're little dalliances with Mr. Commander and Chief is beginning to affect my relationship!" he said in an angry whisper.

Olivia looked up at him, seething. _How dare he?_

"How could this possibly have anything to do with you?" Olivia shot back. She would take a lot of things from Stephen, but this newly found self-righteousness was too much. After years of him sleeping with every slore in Washington D.C, he was judging her? All because he had suddenly fallen in love?

He shook his head frustrated, hands on his waist.

"Olivia, Abby is beginning to get suspicious! You ran out halfway through my engagement party and you've barely been over since we bought the house. She's asking questions, wants to know if you are dating, and she keeps saying you are practically glowing! For God sake, once she even asked me if _we _had ever slept together because we were so secretive."

Olivia's mouth hung open in shock. She thought she was being careful. _Was she really that obvious?_

"Steph…I'm sorry…I didn't'-"she started haltingly, she felt a pang of guilt.

"Don't be." He said sadly. His eyes downtrodden. "Look, we've all been stressed. And I understand, but be careful Liv. I know he only has about eight months left in office, but it still could be dangerous. I just want you to know what the potential consequences of this are."

Olivia felt conflicted. On one hand, Stephen had a point. However, she needed this weekend. She had not seen Fitz in weeks and everything was running smoothly. She kindly placed a chaste kiss on Stephen's cheek and patted him on the shoulder.

"Look, I'm a big girl. It's different this time. I will talk to Fitz and try and be back by Sunday. I will make my famous chocolate cake and come spend some time with my favorite couple. Alright?"

"Okay." He said quietly, heading out the door.

Olivia sighed, grabbed her purse and walked out into the elevator behind Stephen.

_She had made it this far…what's the worst that could happen?_

* * *

Olivia was laying on the large king sized bed, relaxing as Fitz took a shower. The large, flat-screen television was on CNN (as usual). She had arrived about an hour ago and was unwinding from the drive. The bedroom of the Cape Cod home was like most of the bedrooms in the residences of the Grants. Meaning it was well-decorated, tasteful and very large.

He had a long day. Briefings, a meeting with Senate Democrats about a tax reform bill and a speech at the Chamber of Commerce. So she was not surprise to see him sleeping fully clothed on top of the bed when she arrived.

Despite needing the rest, Olivia had needs…she had not seen him in weeks, however given how worn out they both were, she was not anticipating sex tonight. But that did not mean she was thrilled about that fact.

He walked out the bathroom, a trail of steam following him.

_This is torture…_she thought, eyeing him from head to toe. His muscular chest was glistening with beads of water with a fluffy white towel slung low on his well-defined hips.

"You know that was a really long shower, right?" Olivia asked slightly annoyed as Fitz wandered around the room looking for something or another.

He looked at her and cocked his head to the side, as though trying to gage her mood.

"Someone seems annoyed. What's wrong with you?" He asked walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her. She sat up and kissed him softly. But as the kissed deepened, Olivia got more aggressive, trying to pull Fitz down on top of her.

"Hey!" He said amused breaking the kiss. "What's gotten into you?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. What was with the goddamn questions? She was cranky, horny and tired.

_Please not you too. First Stephen, now this?_

"Great. Now I need a reason to have sex with you?" she snapped.

Fitz's face took on a look of shock. His mouth was hanging open and his brows were furrowed.

"Umm…no, but I'm tired, and we have-"But Olivia hopped off the bed and stood in front of him. Her blood was on fire for some reason. She felt on edge. It wasn't Fitz's fault really, but she needed a mechanism to take out her fears and anger on him. She knew how he was when he was tired. And he would be her punching bag tonight. The beauty of Fitz was he was a ticking time bomb. He would build and build and then eventually blow, giving her what she wanted.

"Look, I haven't seen you in a long time. I just thought that we'd at least do something interesting!" She seethed.

Fitz stood up, towering over Olivia and put his hands on her shoulders. He took a deep breathe, closed his eyes and opened them again as though trying to calm himself. She could see the muscle in his jaw flexing from this vantage point.

"Okay, I know you have had a long day. And I have too. I know how you get. So I'm going to pretend like that didn't happen Livy. And you are going to tell me what's really bothering you. Because the last thing I need is another person lashing out at me today. I already get it from Mellie every day; Cyrus was up my ass this morning about coming here, practically giving me a safe sex seminar, so you would understand if I have very little patience for someone, _especially_ you are attacking me, like I'm a manager at Red Lobster. My day job is kind of stressful."

There was an edge to his voice and his eyes had darkened. It was though he was telepathically telling Olivia, _don't fuck with me, babe tonight is not the night. _She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his torso apologetically. Despite her plan, she had no real desire to fight with him.

"I'm sorry, it's just, well, urgh! Stephen gave me the whole "Be careful" speech. And it's been bothering me ever since. I mean, he accused me of-"

She trailed off, leaving Fitz looking more confused than angry.

"Accused you of what?" He asked, putting his chin on top of her head as he embraced her.

She pulled back to look up into his face and into his eyes. They were beginning to melt from the steely dark stone to the warm pools of love she was so used to.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow? Olivia asked softly. She tippy toed and placed a kick peck on his lips.

"Sure." He said kindly, although Olivia could hear some trepidation in his voice. He hugged her a little tighter and walked back into the bathroom.

* * *

Several hours later…

Olivia was curled into a ball while peacefully asleep. But there was something missing. The warmth of Fitz's large body enveloping her diminutive form. It made her feel weird. She needed him sleeping in bed with her. Her eyes popped open and she turned over to see Fitz standing by the window.

_Uh oh._ He only did that when he was worried about something.

_Maybe things weren't looking up for the tax bill. _She thought innocently as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Baby, come to back to bed. I miss you." she said cooing. But for some odd reason he did not move. He continued to stare out the window. Olivia crawled out of bed, slowly making her way toward her lover. She walked around him to see his face in utter shock and agony. It was as though someone died…

_Okay, he could **not** be that disappointed in the bill not passing…He said so himself last night he wasn't sure they were going to pass._

"Fitz, are you okay?" She wrapped her arms around his torso and leaned her head against his chest. But he still did not respond to her touch.

"Okay, you want to play this game, then don't expect me to make Fitz Jr. happy today. And no poking me in the middle of the night for me to play with him either. I was cranky enough for 5 people yesterday." she said jokingly. But still nothing. He turned down to look her in her face and then broke from her embrace. He began pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

_Okay, now he's really scaring me. _She thought.

But before she could say anything else, he breathed in deeply.

"It's coming out Liv, someone knows about us….there's a book." He said nervously.

And at that moment, Olivia felt her heart stop…_No!_

"What do you-"

"Cyrus called me a few hours was yelling, he's pissed! The announcement was made, apparently it was all over the-"

But before Fitz could finish his sentence, Olivia ran over to the bed and clicked on the television…There it was. Flashing lights, pictures of her and Fitz together. That one picture of him kissing her on the cheek with his arm around her shoulder , didn't help. She was smiling widely. That was the night after the first time. She had that picture in her office...

_And breaking news this morning, a shocking tell-all book by an anonymous author is making its way around and its driving Capitol Hill into a frenzy. Its part, expose, part roman a clef. A fictionalized account of an affair between a Republican president, similar to our very own Commander and Chief and a former White House aide. People are already speculating, given the supposed description, that the woman in question could be powerhouse crisis consultant Olivia Pope. Despite the change in names, the book comes packed with a disclaimer claiming all the situations are based on real people and events._

_This begs the question; despite the successful two presidential terms of Fitzgerald Grant, can he withstand another onslaught of rumors pertaining to infidelity. Members of the Democratic leadership like Andrew Ramirez, Senator of New York are calling for an investigation and a special prosecutor._

_Up next, on the hour, we interview a media expert who narrows down who this anonymous author could be._

As the news unfolded, Olivia felt her throat drying. She flipped through every channel. Every major news station was covering the story….

She could feel her brain shutting down, her blood turning cold. This could not be happening, this was a bad dream. She would wake up and everything would be okay…

"Livy, you need to get out of here as soon as possible." Fitz said quietly behind her his voice void of emotion.

_Life as she knew it, was over…._


	20. Chapter 20

Months later…Arlington, Virginia.

_How did I get here?_

Olivia thought to herself as she sat watching the sunset. She was sitting in her childhood bedroom, in the cushiony nook by the window. The room, once a little girl's paradise of boy band posters, FAO Schwarz teddy bears, trophies and certificates had been redecorated to her mother's taste. The walls were now an eggshell white instead of its former royal blue (Olivia hated pink as a child). It was one of the few pleasant surprises that had met her when she had taken refuge in this home after months of hell.

After all, she could no longer live in her Georgetown apartment…

The press still camped outside her apartment according to Stephen. Even after all this time. After countless hours of depositions, after the phone calls from television stations, the hounding and stalking, it had become too much. Olivia could no longer go to work, something that had knocked the wind out of her when her team had told her one afternoon in the conference room.

_What are you saying? _She had asked; looking around at their sad faces. They had avoided her gaze, leaving it up to Abby to break the news to her.

For the time being, Olivia was a client. Nothing more. She would not go to work; she would not socialize about town. No eating out and no morning runs. Sitting in the room by herself, she was doing what her mother had advised her to do. Reflect and re-evaluate her life. How a smart capable woman like her with a multi-million dollar business and years of a sterling reputation had become entangled in a sex scandal.

In the beginning, she was the whore. The media slandered her, pop psychologist deemed her "a woman so ambitious, her taste for power knew no bounds." A modern day Anne Boleyn bringing down one of modern history's most popular and beloved presidents. Then the blame shifted. The President was a sex crazed Casanova who saw Olivia as another notch in his belt. Former college lovers had come out of the woodwork, grabbing their fifteen minutes of fame, sharing mundane antidotes about the President….

_Fucking attention whores._

Stage three of the scandal had finally turned in her favor thanks to some investigation on the part of Huck. He had deduced that the source of the book had come from inside the White House, specifically from the security portion, given the meticulous investigation. Turns out Tom, the Secret Service agent who they thought they could trust had been contracted to dig into their affair.

Suffice to say, Huck took care of him and he was enjoying a quiet life in Sweden…

But despite all of _Pope & Associates_ digging they could not figure out who the author of the book was. Olivia had not been able to bring herself to read it. It would hurt too much…

Despite the fact that folders of evidence, tapes and footage had mysteriously turned up at the special prosecutor's office the day after the story broke, the team had never been able to make the connection.

But what hurt the most about the scandal more so than anything were the consequences they were having on the man she loved…

As Olivia closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, she breathed in deeply. He had been so strong, so it seemed publicly. They had stopped communicating with one another by request of their attorneys. So she did not know how he was taking this personally. The White House had handled the scandal effectively. Getting out ahead of the story….she could hear his words, the day he made that speech. The speech that saved his presidency…

_ In life, we make choices. I chose to run for the highest office in the land…and I have made sacrifices through the years. And one of the biggest sacrifices I made was in my love life. I married young, thinking as a politician, there are rules. You ran for office, you smiled through the pain. And most importantly you got married. I married a woman I thought I could fall in love with. And for a long time, that was enough. But-_

He had choked. Olivia could hear the words in her head as though he were in the room. She remembers watching the speech with her mother, sobbing. In her heart, she knew he had not prepared that speech. Even through the television screen, she could see the agony is his eyes.

_…I met a woman who inspired me and a woman who I loved. A woman who meant everything to me and due to unfortunate circumstances, I could not give her a full life. One of public affection, children and a loving home. I kept her in the shadows, and for that, I am sorry. But what I will not have, and what I cannot tolerate is the desecration of Olivia Pope's character. She is a strong woman, with a bigger love of this country than anyone that I have ever known. And she doesn't deserve to be judged and called names. There were two people involved in this…I pursued her and she pushed me away many times…._

There were tears seeping out of Olivia's eyes, feeling a mix of wistfulness, pain and slight optimism. She remembered the announcement the day after the speech that the First Lady would be moving out of the White House and into her Palm Springs mansion. Thankfully Karen was studying abroad and Jerry was away at boarding school…

_And to think…just a few more months could have made the difference…._

Apart of her hated Mellie irrationally. She could not place it but she blamed her for her misery. For holding Fitz hostage all these years. Sure, it was childish and took the blame off her own indiscretions but felt she was responsible.

And then there was Derek, the idiot prick…any thoughts of him trigger anger, hurt and betrayal. He coincidentally got a job working for the prosecution. He had been in the room during the depositions, smugly taking notes as the special prosecutor asked her the most intrusive questions.

_ Ms. Pope, on tape four, there is a conversation pertaining to you and the President going away to Camp David. We are going to play the tape and we need you to verify if this is your voice._

_ She seethed with rage…she hated this stupid room. The drab walls and the scratched floors. She was shooting daggers into Derek's back as he got up and played the tape. What did she ever see in this opportunistic asshole? Fuck him._

_There were some muffled sounds…then their voices cut through the silent room as sharp as a knife._

_ "…so how is everything? She asked._

"_Yeah…it's been a rough week, no sleep. You know, I'm beginning to think Cyrus loves it when I'm over-scheduled. I'm so beat!"_

"_Don't worry baby, we have all weekend for us to relax…And I'm bringing a few party favors…"_

"_Yeah? Like what?"_

"_You'll see…you are going to like it"_

"_Well, Ms. Pope, suddenly I'm more relaxed._

_[giggles from Olivia]_

"_Remember that one time, when I caught you taking your clothes off. You were wearing that sexy white corset?"_

"_Yeah…"_

"_And nothing else?"_

"_I remember [giggles], why did you like it?"_

"_I loved it…I want you wearing that the next time I see you. And nothing else…"_

Olivia remembered crying herself to sleep that night. It hurt to hear her most intimate moments with Fitz playing out in front of a panel of aging lawyers and her ex-boyfriend. She remembered the look of Derek's face. That cross between smugness and disgust. _Fuck him! How dare he judge me…?_

But before Olivia could continue to dwell any further, her mother walked in the room.

Doris Pope was an elegant, petite woman. Her smooth caramel skin was smooth and barely wrinkled, hardly betraying her age or her widow status. She was dressed in a tasteful pair of cream slacks and matching cashmere sweater vest. Her dark bouffant, streaked with grey was teased a little higher than usual and she was wearing her signature diamond set. They clearly had company.

"Chick pea" she said softly, her raspy voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to her daughter and placed an arm around her.

"Is this a bad time?" She had to be cautious. Olivia had moments where she was not in the mood for company. Her mother knew better than to barge in unless there was a good reason.

Olivia cleared her throat and shook her overgrown curls into her face. She turned her head towards the window as if to hide her face. She did not want her mother knowing she had been crying.

"_We Popes don't cry." _Her father used to say. What would he think if he were alive? A man who had endured Jim Crow, poverty and an Ivy League education to become one of the most respected neurosurgeons in the country think of his darling little girl reduced to this? She had not been strong. For herself, for her mother. Would he think he worked his heart to death in vain? To provide for his family and have his name dragged through the mud every day for months?

"Darling, there is a young man outside the door here to see you." Her mother said softly, rubbing her back and trying to console her. "Now I know you don't want company, and I know it is one of those days but I really think you should see him."

She forcefully whipped her eyes and turned to her mother forcing a smile and nodded. Looking at her mother's stoic nature, her beauty and grace, she felt so small…

Doris got up, strode across the room and opened the door.

_Oh. My. God._

Standing in her doorway was someone she never thought she would see again. Someone she dreamed about every night. Someone her heart had been bleeding for since that unfortunate day she left his Cape Cod home for the last time.

The sheer sight of him, standing there in dark jeans and a black V-neck, his signature full head of curls buried under a baseball cap…she could not believe it was him…

Olivia strode toward him, with no control over her body. She felt as though time, her brain, life itself had stopped. She forgot her mother was still in the room.

_It wasn't him. It couldn't be. This was a joke._

His eyes were covered with a pair of dark aviators. She had to see his eyes. She had to know her baby was really standing in front of her and she was not going crazy…

And when she finally reached him, her hands slowly made their way to his face. She took off his glasses and in an instant; a barrage of emotions that had slowly been eating away from her for the past few months over took her body. Confusion, hurt, longing…

His eyes were full of love, grey and expressive as ever. They had haunted her. In dreams and memories from yesteryear.

His big, elegant hands with wide palms and long fingers closed in on thin her wrist as she softly stroked his face, his nose, and his lips. It was as if she had blind and was seeing what a face looked like for the first time. And with a voice, deep and masculine, overcome with emotion greeted her ears, it felt like a symphony.

"Hi…" Fitz said as tears rolled down his face.

"Hi" she responded softly.

_How did he get here?_


	21. Chapter 21

It had taken Fitzgerald Grant a long way to get to this place. Physically, emotionally and mentally this was the hardest decision he had made in years bar none.

It had taken a talk with his team of lawyers, the White House counsel, and his closet advisors.

_Are you out of your mind? _Cyrus had asked a few days ago when he had laid out his plan. He would go to Olivia's hideout, information he was thankfully able to acquire through her work associates. There had been a woman…brisk, aggressive and very liberal according to her. Abby? He could remember a lot of screaming and yelling at his secretary. And then she finally relented and gave the address…

For the last few months, he had access to the best spin doctors, lawyers and advisors on the planet. They had given him the best of advice and had made him a man who was the victim of a partisan attack by opponents, bitter about the last election. It had taken one speech…an emotional rabbling mess to send his approval ratings from dirt low to their normal levels again. Sure, he still had to sit through hours of depositions and questioning, watching stupid _Dateline_ and _Primetime specials _with labels like "The President's Last Temptation…"

_Not very original, if you asked me. _He thought at the time as he sat in his study, watching the program. The ominous music, the pictures of him and Olivia in White House settings…the interviews by so-called experts.

_This is so silly…._and soon, the American people began to think so. Poll after poll showed that while the President was down with women, there were people sympathetic to a man who was clearly in love.

_There's something to be said for this affair, if you can even call it that. I mean given the way some of these letters and phone calls transpired, can we even say this was just another powerful man entangled in a sordid sex scandal? This man seems like he is in love with this woman. Marriages fall apart all the time. Unfortunately for him, we live in a country where we hold our public officials' private lives in such high esteem that this unhappy man, drowning in a loveless marriage could not even get a divorce._

He remembered smiling as he watched that evening…Finally someone who understood his predicament. But the media expert would not be his only supporter. Despite his anger and disgust, Cyrus had been a good friend throughout the whole ordeal. He had listened carefully as poured his heart out, night after night. He didn't say much but his kind words let Fitz know he was there.

His children had taken a few weeks, incognito and spent time with him in the White House. Karen, his Karen, his little girl was disappointed in him. She yelled and screamed. Calling him selfish. But she eventually came around.

Looking at her that afternoon, her dark auburn waves, tall lithe frame and pretty face, she was a splitting image of her mother. But her eyes…those grey eyes were like looking into a mirror. Karen, the vivacious life of his two children had changed. A sports loving, talkative medical student at Harvard had matured. But she had known….she had always known.

_Daddy do you think I'm stupid? I know you and Mother have never gotten along! But I had to know why? Why couldn't you just wait until you were out of office? And with Olivia of all people? Daddy, I like her! She's given me advice on boys, and birthday presents! Why couldn't you just cheat with someone I could hate! _

Jerry, on the other hand, was more pensive, quieter of the two dealt with the affair by bonding with his father. Fitz saw himself in his son so much. He was like that at that age. He had internalized the scandal, pretending as though everything was fine, even wanting to play basketball with his father.

The pool report pictures had spoken a thousand words. Despite it all…he was a good father. Attentive to his children. But was he? He had spent so much of their lives away from home. But despite it all, they had stuck by him. Those weeks with them, watching movies in the residence, playing sports had given him a level of peace he had not felt since that day at the Cape Cod home months ago.

His relationship with Mellie on the other hand was non-existent up until a few weeks ago. He had finally brought himself to read the book. Agnes Davis and Anderson Pierce were their names but he recognized himself and Liv in these characters. They were portrayed as lovesick sex junkies. Throwing away power and the goodwill of the people for the thrill of the chase. A regular old Cleopatra and Julius Caesar for the modern era…

But some of the situations in the book were eerily familiar. This was not just the work of a talented author with an active imagination…the description of their homes, the scenarios were too precise.

Sure there had been a leak from the White House, one the investigation had not yielded results for but he had gotten an eerie feeling someone close to him had betrayed him…and he had an inkling of who it was.

Mellie for all her grace and poise had virtually no reaction to the scandal but to move out and file for legal separation. She wanted the home in Florida, the Park Avenue apartment and the home in Bridgehampton. He got to keep the ranch, the Cape Code home. She wanted the divorce after he left the White House.

There was no screaming, no fighting and no lectures. Just a flippant goodbye after days of packing, a press release and communication through his attorneys about stock option divisions and pre-nuptial agreements.

_She did this…_his mind screamed at him as he watched her from their bedroom window get into the limo and leave him for good. Even from the window, he could see a bit of a, dare he think it, a bounce in her step…like she was happy.

So that evening, he called his lawyers and informed him of his suspicion. And he knew the one person who could help him get to the bottom of this.

* * *

_The Popes home was beautiful_, Fitzgerald thought as he sat in the swanky sitting room, having tea with Doris Pope. It was warm, big yet a good size. Not as opulent as his homes growing up. He would have loved to grow up in a house like this.

"Son, I trust it you are here for a good reason. The last thing my daughter needs is the press asking her questions pertaining to your visit." Doris said coldly her eyebrow cocked as she observed him with a lawyer's mean. She had a smoky voice with a southern belle accent.

The resemblance was uncanny. The diminutive, yet hourglass frame, the smooth brown skin so free of any lines it was hard to tell that Doris was a day over 30. And yet she was almost 70 years old…that air of regal disposition, almost like an old fashioned movie star. However her eyes were very different from her daughters. Her eyes were hazel, and olive shaped. Almost cat like.

_She must have gotten her eyes from her father…_

"Yes ma'am." He said nervously. Despite how small this woman was, she gave off an air of power. And how could she not. He had read all about her. One of Washington's most famous lobbyists.

She leaned back into the soft tan couch and sipped her tea, her lips were pursed in a very Olivia-like manner.

"You know, I've never liked Republicans. I've dealt with a good chunk in my day, the lobbying business is full of them, but I thought you were different. You made sense, not to extreme… So I wasn't surprised when my daughter decided to work for you. I can tell you are a good man so I'm not going to be that woman who rips you apart for having an affair. I'm sure your wife has done that job already. And my baby, while still my baby is a grown woman. She knew what she was doing." She said looking him dead in the eye as if to challenge him.

Fitz nodded not really knowing what to say. _Good! She doesn't hate me._

"Ma'am I can't say how sorry-"

She cut him off, flapping her hands as if she were wadding away the help.

"Boy, I don't need you apologizing and I don't need your groveling. You're too cute for that." She said matter-of-factly.

Fitz chuckled. Now it all made sense where Olivia got her moxy from.

"What I need you to do is go upstairs and talk to her. Not mess her around and baby her. But talk to her. The way you ended things was not healthy. And I haven't seen Liv this broken since her father passed." She said firmly as she motioned toward a large picture hanging over the mantel. It was a portrait of a young Olivia, dressed in a white gown and gloves dancing with a tall, handsome man in a tuxedo.

_That must have been her cotillion…_

"I'm sorry for your lost ma'am." Fitz said quietly as she poured more tea. She rolled her eyes.

"Boy, quit your apologizing for the last darn time! Unless you supplied him with the cigarettes and scotch you can save it. And, oh let me know if you asked him to work long hours, on holidays and birthdays. Or better yet, if you spend years forcing him eating his mama's collard greens and neck bones because he didn't like my cooking. That old fat bitch killed him, not you." There was that lip pursing again.

Fitz choked with laugher as he took a sip of tea. This woman was too much.

"Now, let's get upstairs before Liv comes down. And take your shoes off before you climb my stairs, I have white carpeting." She said as she began walking toward the mahogany spiral staircase. Fitz put his teacup down and followed her upstairs immediately.

"What did I tell you about my carpet! Shoe's off!"

* * *

She looked so small. Her hair was a wild forest of dark coils. And her face was thinner than he remembered. But those eyes, those chocolate big eyes were haunting. Sunken with sorrow.

"Fitz, what…what are you-" she began to ask him as she stroked his face. She looked so shocked, it were as though she had not seen sunlight in years.

"He needs to talk to you, so I will leave you two alone." Doris said softly. Fitz was enraptured in Olivia's face, drinking in her touch, he had forgotten Doris was still in the room.

"Umm…thank you Mrs. Pope" Fitz choked out through his tears. But as she left, she turned sternly toward the two of them, pointing a well-manicured finger menacingly.

"No smacking bellies? Understood?"

At that comment it was as though Olivia had morphed into a teenager. She pulled away from Fitz and rolled her eyes, awkwardly whipping away her tears.

"Mom!" She said embarrassed as Doris closed the door behind her, leaving them to each other.

The silence was so loud. All they could do was stare at one another…

"Umm…your mom is very…" Fitz began awkwardly.

"Southern? Pushy? Too much?" Olivia said with a cocked eyebrow, her tear stained face spreading into a small smile.

Fitz shrugged well humoredly. _At least they were getting off to a good start._

"Smacking bellies? That's a little old fashioned"

"That's mom…" Olivia said. She says awkwardly. She was practically swimming in her blue Yale sweats combination.

_She had lost a lot of weight. _

Fitz looked around, taking the room in. It was so cozy he was oddly tempted to lay on the big canopy bed with Olivia and cuddle with her. But he could not do that, just yet.

"I know this is weird-" he began, his voice trembling. But as he spoke Olivia walked toward the crème nook, with its oak paneling and fluffy cushions and sat down facing him. She looked down at her toes, her feet swinging because she was too short for her feet to hit the white carpet.

"Livy…I'm here for a good reason." He said, trying to compose himself. He walked over and sat next to her.

"Oh?" she asked him quietly, finally looking up at him.

"I have reason to believe that Mellie was behind all this…" Fitz said forcefully. He had to stay focus. He could not get wrapped up in her presence. Or he would not be able to contain himself. At his statement her eyes widened with an almost childlike curiosity.

"What?" she asked confused, shaking her head.

He took a deep breath and placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her pretty face.

"Look I know it sounds crazy and I know this whole thing is nuts but I have been thinking…I have figure some stuff out. I know there was evidence and I know you. I know you probably haven't read the book, but I have. And there is stuff in that book that no one could know Liv, unless Mellie told whoever wrote this."

Olivia got up and began pacing the room slowly. It was a lot to process.

"Look, Fitz, I get that you want-" she said, facing him.

Fitz shook his head frantically. Now was no time to be skeptical. He could feel this in his gut. He knew Mellie…better than anyone.

"Olivia, I know this is insane, but you have to believe me. There is a passage in the book, I remember, it was Chapter 14…when Anderson calls out Agnes's name when he is having sex with his wife Catherine. Liv, think about it! Who makes that kind of thing up?"

"Umm…someone money hungry with a great imagination. Look, I've been trying to put this behind me and-"

"No. I know my wife Liv, and I know myself. That happened. I know because I remembered it. The words, the way we fought. It happened when Mellie tried to get pregnant. It happened when you left-"

Fitz choked, he could feel himself getting desperate to convince Olivia. She was so detached. So emotionally removed. She just stood there, her eyes glassy with tears looking confused.

_What had happened to his Livy?_

"Fitz, how did you even get here?" she asked quietly. Her head cocked slightly.

He took a deep breath. _Let's hope for the best._

"A government car, two agents a sharp shooter and Cyrus's consent. You know me, and you know with everything that's happened, I would not just show up like this unless it was really important. I have a cell phone and if you want-"

"Tom. Tom was the one who betrayed us." She said firmly cutting him off.

Fitz's mouth fell open in shock…Tom? How did she know that?

"What?"

"The team figured it out. That's why he was reassigned. Or so his file will say. He's in Sweden. We found out he was contracted out. Former Black Opt member with a hacking hobby and proximity to a president he was getting tired of protecting, he was the perfect spy." Olivia said matter of factly. Slowly but surely, Fitz was beginning to see traces of his old Livy, the fixer coming back.

Fitz shook his head slowly, running a hand over his face. It was all making sense now….

"But if Tom was contracted out, think about it Liv, think about it, who else would have the proximity and the money to pull that off. Who else would feed that kind of information to him?"

Olivia shook her head and continued pacing the room.

"I've been thinking lately that it could have been Derek, maybe even his father who wrote the book. But where would a sitting United States Senator or a prosecutor get the time. But I've never thought of Mel, Fitz. I mean why would that even make sense?" She asked. It was as though she was thinking out loud rather than talking to him. He got up, walked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Liv, you and I both know that if Mel wanted, she would fight tooth and nail to stay in the White House. Why the hell would she just move out? Why would she just move out so easily? Come on! My lawyers are willing to work with your team Liv. We could end this…expose her for what she really is!" He said forcefully, but she broke away from his grip, and began pacing once more.

"What's the point? The stuff in there was true anyway. So we expose her, if you are even right and then what? She gets more sympathy?"

Fitz could feel himself getting frustrated. He sat down to calm himself. Fuck! He stepped in front of Liv to stop her from pacing.

"Liv, even if we don't, we owe it to ourselves to find out who did this. Your mom has a copy of the book. Read it-"

But she shook her head forcefully, tears forming in her eyes again.

"No! I'm not doing that, I'm won't, it hurts-" But Fitz put his arms around her and put his lips to her ear. She felt so thin in his arms. That softness, the lushness of her curves were gone.

"Baby…Sweet Babe…listen." He whispered.

"Noo..ooo" Her cry was muffled and her tears were wetting his tee shirt. He held onto her firmly despite her trying to fight his embrace. But after a while she gave in, wrapping her thin arms around his neck.

Fitz felt himself calm with easy. It hurt to feel his baby like this, small and confused. She was so broken. It was as though she had withered away. But despite it all, he still could feel that powerful rush of love in his heart. They stood there for a while, embracing each other as Fitz rocked her gently, trying to calm him down. Sure, it would hurt now. But soon, this would be all behind them. If he had anything to do with it. Because he could not live in a world where Olivia Pope was as broken and scared as she was right now.


	22. Chapter 22

Two months later…

Mellie Grant was mad. Furious one could even say. And she was taking it out on the punching bag in her home gym. She was sweaty; disgruntled and her emotions were getting the best of her. She hated when that happened…

She had done it again. She had listened to the tapes…she had tried to focus her anger but all it did was make her even more angry. The old technique had not worked and that might have something to do with the fact that her plan was falling apart.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this. _She thought viscously. How did a philandering pig become a tragic hero? How did the power hungry bitch who had been gunning for her husband since the first day she met him become the victim? Since when did the scorn, betrayed wife become the "Frigid Bitch" as a stand-up comedian called her? And most importantly, how did a sex scandal that was supposed to be an impeachable offense lead to fewer than 20 votes in the House of Representatives and less than 10 in the Senate for his removal.

_I planned this carefully…I spent every fucking day for the past two years planning this shit and nothing._

Maybe she should have just let the stupid little girl publish the expose as an article with the pictures and all. Redacted evidence and legal immunity had prevented a lot of the sordid details from being publish, with the exception of the book, which most of the public had assumed was exaggerated.

She could not reach Tom for some reason, and despite feeding Julia information for weeks on end prior to the release of the book, she could barely reach the girl.

_Maybe she should convince the girl to actually confess…no that was too messy. But there was always Ramirez; he might run the next time around. Maybe she could have someone send more docs as operation research. _

As her mind stewed, she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. She stopped long enough and turned around to see her Vietnamese housekeeper, Mei standing in the gym.

"Mrs. Grant, you have visitor." She said politely, her black eyes flashing nervously. Mellie tried catching her breath, while whipping away the beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Is…this visitor in the house?" Mellie inquired as she took off the wraps on her hands frantically.

"Yes ma'am. She's in the upstairs sitting room." Mei said politely. Mellie had always thought the perpetual politeness of Asians was kind of annoying. And so were unexpected house guest.

"Thank you, Mei" Mellie said coldly as she walked out of the gym. "And do me a favor; wipe the sweat off the punching bag!

_She hated when people did not clean up after messes…_

* * *

Mellie was not entirely sure who the guest was, and judging from Mei's nervousness, it was a guest who she would not like to see. When she finally reached the upper level of the home, she stopped in front of gilded mirror in the hallway to check her reflection. She was wearing a black tank top, running shorts and sneakers. Her auburn hair was tight in a high bun and her skin was glistening.

_I look disgusting…_She thought, but she could care less. She had no time to change. She could not afford to be a rude hostess.

But as she turned the corner into the sunny sitting area, she caught a glimpse of her guest from behind.

She could not tell who it was but all she could say is that this woman had a nice haircut. A thick black bob with a blunt cut from what it looked like. Very trendy…Karen had even talked about getting one of those. Apparently it was all the rage…

"Hello!" Mellie said brightly as she walked into the room. "Sorry about my appearance, I was just-"But as she walked around the sofa to face her guest, her mind went numb. She could not believe her eyes…

_No, she wasn't supposed to be here! This was not happening! Fuck!_

"No worries, Mellie. I don't mind." Olivia Pope said smugly, smiling wide. Mellie hated herself from admitting it but Olivia looked fabulous. It was not that she always did not look good, but the woman running from the press in dark sunglasses and silk scarves, she was no longer. Sitting in front of her was a bona fide fashionista. She was wearing a flowy off- the-shoulder white peasant top, skinny dark jeans, a large brown Marc Jacobs handbag was slung over her shoulder and her feet had on what looked like the gold Prada flats Mellie had wanted…until now. The big gold hoops were a bit much. Too Pam Grier circa '78.

_Fucking bitch! As if she could look any younger, here she was dressed like she was vacationing in San Tropez! Hell, she looked like she could fit into Karen's jeans._

Mellie secretly was seething. Her blood was shooting to her head in a way it had not since Fitzgerald used to fuck those Smith sluts from their college years….when she actually gave a care who he slept with. How dare she invade her home? How did she even get in here? To Florida undetected?

"Olivia. What are you doing here?" She asked through gritted teeth. _Ruining my perfectly peaceful day!_

She smiled, re-crossing her legs as she ran a well-manicured hand through her long bangs.

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd visit an old friend." She replied coyly, her face all smiles.

Mellie knew people. Their ticks, their tells and what moods they could be in. And she was very happy. Frankly Olivia looked too happy for a woman who had been obsessively stalked by the press for a sleazy sex scandal for the past few months.

Mellie shook her head. It was taking everything in her to not reach across and slap Olivia across the face.

"Friend? Interesting choice of words for a woman who's been fucking my husband on and off for the past few years." Mellie said this as controlled as she possibly could. She could play this game. And she could play it better than anyone. The last time Olivia had tried to one up her, she had crushed her. And she could do it again.

"Well, let's not forget Mel, you _let _me fuck him for quite some time there." Olivia said jovially. Mellie's blood had gone cold.

_Checkmate. _

"Don't you have a meeting with a prosecutor to run too? I'm sure you need to prepare for that tough question about whether Fitz likes black thongs or red thongs. It must be difficult." Mellie shot back coldly. She practically spat out the world "difficult".

Olivia laughed and stood up.

"I'm sure you, like most of the world knows the investigation is closed. Mysteriously, Derek Ramirez came up short on evidence that the White House forged logs to cover up the affair. But I guess when he suddenly remembered those pot-fueled bisexual orgies his father used to have at Princeton, courtesy of some digging and an old-coed who was willing to come forward, one would think twice about going forth with an investigation with no legs." Olivia said at rapid speed barely blinking. The smile on her face was so broad, she looked almost maniacal.

Mellie's mouth felt slightly dry but she maintained composure. She had too. Her plan would not slip away like this.

"Oh, and that's not all we found!" She said clapping her hands together loudly. "Funny, how Tom mysteriously fell off the surface of the earth? But I here Sweden is nice this time of year. And I've got to say Mel, I'm disappointed, Julia freaking Lopez, ha! The ex-girlfriend of my ex? Really? That's a little tacky, even for you. White House logs show she was in your office repeatedly leading up to the publishing of the book. Not that we really needed to go that far, seeing that Fitz, so sweet, decided to call your good friend Nancy, in New York. Next time you do something like that, make the publisher signs a confidentiality contract instead of the wannabe Bob Woodward slore. Tsk Tsk, how messy of you? And word to the wise? Your husband is really good at investigating..Hmm…maybe he should work for me after he's out of office."

Olivia paused, taking a minute to allow for Mellie to process the information. There it was again, that smugness. The cocky head tilt, the pursed lips. Her brown eyes glittering with satisfaction. It was as though Christmas had come early for her.

Mellie could feel herself shaking with rage. Her hands were balling into fist, with her fingernails digging so deep into her palms.

Olivia opened her purse and pulled out a manila folder. She threw it on the oak coffee table that separated the two women. Pictures slipped out…meetings, dinners and restaurant powwows.

"We've been following you. Meeting with the Florida Republican delegation? Now, Mel, don't tell me you are running for office? Ha! Is that what this was all about? You were pulling a Hillary? Flip the sympathy of the woman scorned into a political career? It doesn't work like that. Because unlike you, Hilary actually loved her husband. The American people felt bad for a woman who was wronged by a man she loved deeply, truly and whole heartedly. See-"

As Olivia spoke, she slowly walked around the table and got closer to Mellie. She began circling her as though she were a vulture zeroing on its prey.

` "…Hilary allowed the public to see her pain. So did Elizabeth Edwards and the rest. No one feels sorry for the frigid ice Queen who doesn't know how to please her man, not my words, David Lettermen's."

And there was the dagger…the knife in the heart that Mellie never thought she could feel. Mellie fell into the dark leather couch, with not a care about her sweat rubbing into her beloved furniture. Her knees were numb.

_How could this happen? How? _

Olivia knelt down, blocking Mellie into the chair by placing her hands on each of the arm rest. Her face formed a mocking sneer.

" But you see, I couldn't do my job because I was too busy doing yours…I kept him happy, I may have broken his heart, and given him up but you see, and I did my job. As a woman. I listened to him, I cared for him, and I actually took the time to give him time. I loved him, faults and all. Why couldn't you see what an amazing man your husband was? Do you know, how lucky you were? He's a great man, and an even better father. Who loves deeply and warmly. The kind of man that rubs your feet after a long day, makes you laugh and makes you breakfast just for you being there for him. So you will understand why I look forward to doing the job you couldn't do for the rest of my life when this is all over. I'm looking forward to being his wife. So the question becomes, why didn't you do your job?"

Olivia said this with so much malice that for the first time in years, Mellie began to do the unthinkable. She began to cry. Painful tears of regret and anxiousness. Her body was hot with rage and anger yet she could not bring herself to strike Olivia….she was sobbing, heaving sobs with tears rolling down her face. She curled into the couch like a child being scolded as Olivia stepped back to admire her handy work. There was a glimpse of a smile in her pretty face.

"Well, seeing that you're not exactly in the mood to converse, I'm going to , by the way Mel, if you're going to fuck the pool boy, you should were a condom. There's nothing attractive about a woman your age with chlamydia. You have a nice life."

And with that, Olivia strode out purposefully head high, leaving Mellie to stew in her own misery.


	23. Chapter 23

Years later…

Olivia wanted to go home and stay in bed. It was one of those rainy New York days, where cabs whipped water onto the pavement as they raced down the avenues. That's the one thing she hated about Manhattan, especially on the days when she wore white. She was in her Mid-town office reviewing the financial records of a prominent hedge fund being accused of funneling profits illegally into Cayman Island bank accounts. Needless to say, this was a case she could not help but take on.

_Fascinating…_she thought shaking her head as looked at the datasheets. While most people would find this kind of thing boring, Olivia found the kind of peace in datasheets, financial records and background checks that most people found while relaxing on a beach. But as she turned the page, Lisa, her young assistant walked in with Olivia's daily breakfast on a tray and her newspapers.

"Sorry ma'am. I don't know if I'm late, I think I'm late but the weather sucks and there was traffic. " The pretty young brunette said in rushed panic. She was very frantic, as she always was. Olivia could not help but smile. She reminded her of Quinn…

"Don't worry Lisa, I understand. Listen, I'm going to be leaving early today just so you know, probably around three, call Nina and let her know I want her to take the rest of the weekend off." Olivia said brightly as Lisa placed her breakfast on her desk and handed her a stack of newspapers.

Her assistant's mouth fell into the shape of an "O". She shook her head frantically, processing the information.

"Right…right…" Lisa said nervously. "I'm not sure if you read Journal, so I got it anyway but if you don't I can-"

Olivia laughed. _This girl was too cute. _

"Lisa dear, you need to relax. I'm fine. Did you get conformation on what time-"Olivia started, but Lisa, being ever so efficient cut her off.

"Yes, he will be arriving at five, and his car-"

"Lisa!" Olivia exclaimed bemused.

"What?" She responded, her green eyes darting around the office as though looking for someone. Olivia sighed, running her hands through her sleek bob in amusement.

"Thank…you. Now you may go." She said motioning toward the door.

"Of course." And with that nervous Lisa scurried out of the door.

_If she had calmed down, I would be able to compliment her on the dress. Very structured, probably Marc. _Olivia thought as she removed the covers from her food.

It was her usual, a fruit salad, a scone and a mug of coffee. But as she picked up her fork to go to work on her salad, the first newspaper on the stack caught her eye. It was the New York Times and it was usually the first paper she read every morning. She picked up the heavy paper and observed the headline.

_EX-PRESIDENT GRANT GIVES IMPASSIONED SPEECH ON CHILD POVERTY BEFORE THE UNITED NATIONS._

Olivia smiled as she looked at the front page picture. There he was, mid-sentence standing at a podium.

_He could use a haircut._ She thought smiling. She flipped through the newspaper while taking the occasional sip of coffee. Same old, same old…President Langston's entitlement reform bill was rejected by Senate Democrats, escalation in Afghanistan and the real estate market was a bit weak. But as she made her way to flip to the style section, her eyes fell on an opinion piece. The headline was impossible to miss.

_Ah of course, good ol' Maureen_. Olivia thought as she began reading the article. She had a great hair colorist. Olivia always admired women with gutsiness.

_The Prince and the Temptress._

_For a large portion of time, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were the epitome of the celebrity couple. Sexy, supremely talented and deeply in love, they were flawed in that delicious that sold tabloids. But over the years, other couples would take on the mantel, Charles and Diana (brief, but juicy), Angelina and Brad, (the kids made them less interesting) and Jay-Z and Beyoncé (too private for our taste.)_

_But after last week's triumphant fundraising gala, I hereby declare that our Liv and Dick are Fitz and Liv. Now I know there are some who still hold the whole "Phone-gate" debacle over their heads, but come on! He's American royalty and she's a Jackie Collins heroine incarnate. And besides, with that smile and that hair, who could stay mad for Fitzy boy for long?_

_He's done all the right things; the Grant World Initiative charity, check. The statesmanship, check and that side UN Ambassadorship job on poverty makes for pretty good reasons to love him. (Who could hate a guy trying to feed the world's hungry?) And with Langston's twanging right wing agenda stinking up Washington and the economy, it's hard not to miss the good old days of Grant. The eloquence, the diplomacy, the good job creation (and did I mention the hair?)_

_As for his beautiful temptress, who could not love her (and secretly hate her for nabbing the hottest politico boy wonder since Kennedy?) she's stylish, smart, a philanthropist and most importantly did what her spiritual counterpart Liz Taylor did decades ago. Turned a scandal into success. A hotshot politico fixer with a boutique firm and a sex scandal has beautifully pulled the phoenix act. Act Two: Her consulting firm is spread across three states, handling everything from her better half's presidential library opening in California to the hedge fund debacle that has dominated the headlines. Not to mention she throws an excellent dinner party. And how could we forget that stunning white number she wore to Prince Harry's wedding a few months ago?_

_Sure, for some, the jet-set pair is too new age. Too moneyed and too Upper East Side. But this is the 21__st__ century. A president who did good and continues to do good can be a divorcee (and judging by that rock on Liv's finger, he won't stay that way for long). So we can learn to love his longtime girlfriend as well, despite it all. If the kids seem normal, judging by Princess Karen's Doctor's without Border's work and mini-Fitz's Harvard Law ambition, we can learn to love them. Besides, the Ice Queen made it a lot easier for us to do. _

Olivia laughed out loud as she read the article. It made the exhausting rainy day just a little more bearable.

* * *

Olivia had arrived home finally…

The Park Avenue apartment was empty, her Jimmy Choos echoed on the marble floors as she walked into the foyer. She loved this home. This was _their_ home. She had re-decorated it in deep reds and rich browns, from its original boring yellow and taupe. Their love was etched inside the walls, with happy memories of birthdays, anniversaries and dinner parties. Smiles, kisses and intimate moments had occurred in many of the luxurious rooms. So despite it being empty, it did not feel lonely.

She took the spiral stairs and walked into their master bedroom, and into the bathroom. She closed the door and made her way to her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face looked well-rested, made up enough to look professional but not too much to be over the top. But the most noticeable thing was that her eyes had a twinkle to them.

_Maybe because he's coming home._

She smiled at her reflection, took off her diamond ring, her matching studs and her red Donna Karen sheath and took a long, hot relaxing shower, fantasizing about how perfect this evening would be.

* * *

The rain was pouring down worse than ever but that could do nothing to dampen Olivia's mood. Because she had sent Nina home for the weekend, she was cooking. The sprawling kitchen, normally sparkling and clean was covered with food. A succulent roast beef was broiling in the state of the art oven while a bowl of potatoes, pre-seasoned zucchini, chopped peppers, stuffed mushrooms and ingredients for apple pie littered the kitchen island.

Lena Horne's, "I've Got Rhythm" was playing softly throughout the apartment as Olivia hummed brightly. She rarely ever cooked when he was not home, usually opting for dinner with friends or take out but she had not seen him in weeks. She wanted him to feel welcomed.

But as she began peeling the apples, she heard footsteps approaching…

She squealed a bit with delight as she raced to see him, and his suitcase walking toward the kitchen.

Olivia felt her heart warm as she ran toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. Their lips, their minds, and their hearts were communicating with one another at a rapid fire pace. She broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, running a hand through his hair, while the other stoked his cheek. He looked tired but happy.

"Well, this is a lovely way to be welcomed home." Fitz said smiling widely, his arms wrapped around Olivia's waist.

Olivia blushed. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

"Yeah, well…I've missed you."

Fitz placed a brief yet impassioned kiss on her lips and then whispered into her ear, "I missed you too."

"Mm…you feel so good." He said tenderly as he tightened the embrace and held her a little while longer. "And is that food I smell?"

He asked as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

"Wow, Lena and apple pie. You must have really missed me, you know how I much I love Lena, you know my dad loved Lena, he had the _biggest_ crush on her, I met her when I was five, stunning woman." He said jokingly, placing a kiss on her neck while reaching for a zucchini. But Olivia, smacked his hand away. He always did that.

"Hey!" laughing as he took a seat behind the island.

Olivia shook her head smiling while continuing her quest to peel the apples.

"They are not cooked." She said, pointing the peeler at Fitz. "And as far as Lena is concerned, I guess like father like son, in more ways than one." She said winking at him.

He smirked, rolling his eyes. "I had a long flight, I'm exhausted and my fiancé scolds me for trying to eat, then pokes fun at healthy appreciation of a jazz legends."

Olivia rolled her eyes. _Always trying to guilt me into having his way._

"I spent a good amount of time trying to make this meal, so none of that, and I'm not making fun of your appreciation for jazz legends, I'm merely pointing out the obvious. But you can tell me about your lovely trip?" She asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes exaggeratingly. He smiled, walked around the island and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"It was hell." He said softly, burying his face into her neck. Olivia could feel those familiar butterflies in her stomach. Suddenly the world felt even more perfect.

"Really?" she asked turning around to face him. "The press was good, everything ran smoothly and they loved the speech? What went wrong?"

_The no-tie, five o'clock shadow thing was very sexy. _Olivia thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He winked at her as his hands moved down lower her back all the while his big hands slowly made their way up her shirt and began fingering her bra.

"Yeah…because you weren't there." Fitz said softly. And just like that, Olivia melted. He always knew the right thing to say. She placed another sweet kiss on his lips.

"Very nice, Mr. Grant, but as much as I love your hand where it is, if you want to eat anytime soon, I have to finish." She said playfully, motioning to the island loaded with food.

"How about I just eat you instead. You smell so good" He said huskily, while slowly placing his face in the crux of her neck and kissing that sensitive spot behind her earlobe. Olivia's body was heating up and she was suddenly getting distracted. But as if the universe was giving her a sign, she heard Fitz's stomach grumble. She pulled away, smiling.

"How about I finish this dinner and then you can have my apple pie." She said sultrily, cocking her eyebrow. He dropped his head in mock disappointment and walked back to his seat.

"Fine, but you owe me. Don't think I don't remember that Skype striptease."

"Yeah, well, patience, Mr. President, patience is a virtue." Olivia said laughing as she continued her peeling.

"By the way, what's this I hear about a state dinner? Your assistant emailed me something about it?" Fitz asked casually as he once again tried to pick at the food, but Olivia smacked his hand away again without even looking up.

"Yeah, we've been invited, as always." Olivia said. She put the peeler and the apple down and looked Fitz in the eye. The beauty of their relationship was they knew each other so well, that Fitz had not have to elaborate on his worry. Or even what he was worried about at the moment.

Despite the general public accepting their relationship, it had taken years and good PR planning courtesy of Olivia's Washington D.C team to make that happen. But in Washington, the feelings were not as fuzzy. There were some, people with old-fashion stubbornness who did not believe in an ex-president getting a divorce, no matter the circumstances. A lot of right wing officials with conservative stances on family values, were not fond of how the Grants' marriage had disintegrated so publicly while he was in office. So naturally, they had not exactly welcomed Olivia with open arms.

This resulted in them passing up attending White House functions like state dinners. Personally, Olivia did not mind going, but Fitz had taken it personally when a former white house aide had condemned Fitz on CNN for "shacking up with his mistress." And some still jokingly called her Anne Boleyn behind closed doors, according to Cyrus, anyway. Anytime it was brought up in conversation or by pundits, Fitz's jaw muscle would flex and he would start balling his hands into fists.

They only went to Washington on business, when Olivia wanted to visit her old co-workers or to have dinner with Cyrus and James. So going to a function in D.C together would be a big step for them, and their relationship.

"Yeah. I, umm…checked my schedule and yours and we are free so I figured why not?" Olivia asked shrugging. She could see a hint of trepidation flashing in Fitz's eyes. His irises were getting wide…they did that when he was unsure. He shook his head wearingly and breathed in heavily.

"I don't know Liv. Do you really want to submit yourself to that? I mean, _everyone _is going to be there." He said worried while placing a hand on Olivia's. She knew what he meant by "everyone".

Olivia had to admit, the thought gave her some pause…but she had her reasons…she had unfinished business to tend to.

"Don't worry. It's all innocent. We dress up, we dance, eat and go home. Come on, it won't be any different than all the New York and California stuff." She said confidently squeezing his hand.

_I've got this._ She thought. Fitz nodded as though he knew what she was thinking.

"Okay, if you say so, but under one condition." Fitz said in a serious voice.

Olivia stared at him worried. _What could he possibly be worried about?_

"I would like…for you to be my date to the prom." He said his face splitting into a million dollar smile.

Olivia laughed, throwing an apple peel at him. Typical.

"You are so ridiculous." Olivia said rolling her eyes as she reached down to the wine cooler to grab a Pinot Noir.

"I am. And you wouldn't have me any other way." He said charmingly.

Olivia placed the wine on the island, walked around and placed a loving kiss on Fitz's forehead.

"Your right, I wouldn't." she said softly, feeling warm with contentment. "But you know I would love?"

"No, what?"

"You putting that suitcase upstairs." Olivia said motioning to the bag leaning against the door way.

Fitz smiled mischievously. His eyes dancing once again.

"Well seeing that I have to wait to eat my dinner before my dessert, how about we agree I do that later." He joked.

Olivia shook her head and laughed.

_After all this time, he was still the consummate politician…._


	24. Chapter 24

The week after….

Fitz and Olivia had planned their whole week around their trip to Washington. They both had a list of events coming up. Fitz had a _Meet the Press _interview and was going to testify before Congress about food aid to war-torn African countries on behalf of his charity. Olivia, on the other hand had to meet with a client who was flying into D.C. And sometime in between, she would lunch with Cyrus, and then attend a dinner hosted by Stephen and Abby. So the White House State dinner was just one of many events on their overflowing Blackberries.

The couple was in a deluxe Presidential suite in the historic Hay-Adams hotel. They had flown in a few hours ago on the Grant gulfstream leaving Fitz feeling sluggish and jet-lagged. He had barely had time to recover from his UN exploration trip last week. Between meetings, his charity and events, he found himself in some ways a lot busier than when he had been as President.

Not that he was complaining. He loved the post-Presidential life. Even though he worked hard, he controlled his own schedule on his terms. His staff, unlike his White House aides always checked with him first. Although, there were times when Olivia bugged him about working too hard and now was one of them.

Due to the rainy and cold weather Fitz had come down with the sniffles two days ago, causing Olivia to baby him. He loved it when she fussed over his health and well-being. He found this entertaining, to say the least, given how detail oriented she was about everything from when should take his cough medicine to what kind of soup he should be eating. Even the hotel in question had been up for debate. She wanted to stay at the Ritz-Carlton. It was more luxurious, bigger and more equip to deal with their security detail.

But Fitz preferred Hay-Adams. He was familiar with the hotel; (his family used to stay at the Hay-Adams whenever they came to Washington during his childhood)and he loved its proximity to the White House and liked the dingy, historic feel of the place. It was romantic and cozy. But despite this, Fitz had to make her breakfast in bed (and do other things) to get her to agree stay at his favorite hotel. Olivia was superstitious and believed the hotel was haunted.

Fitz chuckled to himself as Olivia's voice echoed from the bathroom. He was lying in bed, in his pajamas while she was on one of her "You need to take better care of yourself" tangents.

"How are you going to make it to your next birthday, if you keep working while sick?" Olivia said loudly. She walked out of the bathroom in a fluffy white bathrobe. Her hair was up in a tight, sleek ponytail that ended at the nape of her neck.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you are when you walk out the shower?" Fitz said his voice slightly raspy from his cold. Olivia walked across the room to the closet and began rummaging around. Fitz took the opportune moment to check her out while she was not looking.

"Don't start with the flattery, Fitz and if I so much as catch you scrolling through your blackberry tonight, I will ring your neck." She said jokingly. She removed her robe hastily and began to get dress in a pair of black yoga pants and a white body hugging Yale tee-shirt.

_First, she forces me into bed rest, and now she's changing in front of me, expecting me not to react. _Fitz thought humored.

"You know, if you want me to rest, you would do best not to change in front of me." He could feel himself getting excited while he had been watching her put her clothes on. Even after all this years, the briefest glimpse of her half naked body sent his mind into the raunchiest of places. She laughed as she walked toward the bed.

"Oh, there will be none of that" Olivia said wagging a finger. Along with her many other rules, sex were prohibited until Fitz's cold cleared. But who were they kidding?

She plopped on the bed next to him. But before Fitz could say another word, Olivia planted a hand on his forehead, checking is temperature again.

"Baby, for the last time, I'm fine. It's a little cold." He said, trying to butter her up. He took her hand and began laying soft kisses on the inside of her wrist. He watched her closely as her eyes began to flutter. She bit her lip…

_Good, she was finally coming around. _He thought as his lips slowly made their way up her arm.

"Fitz…." She said weakly. _It was like taking candy from a baby._

"Mmm…"

"Have you taken your medicine?" She asked, snatching her arm away and stick her tongue out at him.

"You mean to tell me that had no effect on you? I must be getting rusty." Fitz said laughing as he reached out to grab her by the waist and cuddled her against him.

She felt so good in his arms. She was his comfort blanket.

"Oh, you did, but I saw that coming." She said, as she leaned her head against his chest as Fitz placed a kiss on Olivia's head.

"Did you really?"

"Oh, please! Fitzgerald Grant, you think with the head not on your head more so than anyone I know." Olivia said, sitting up to look at him. She was smiling mockingly at him while shaking her head.

Fitz rolled his eyes. Typical.

"You know, it's all out of love right?" he said tenderly, placing a loving hand on Olivia's soft cheek. She blushed deeply as she bit her lip.

"I know, but I worry about you. And as adorable as you are with a red nose and a frog in your throat, I just want you to feel better."

She leaned in to place an innocent kiss on his forehead, but when she least expected it; Fitz flipped her over and pinned her down.

"Fitz!" she shrieked giggling as he playfully bit her neck as though he were a vampire.

"I would feel a lot better-"

"No!"

"Come on, just five minutes."

"Yeah, right, like that's going to happen-"

"Last time I checked, that wasn't a bad thing."

He playfully kept her pinned down as she tried to fight her way out, but he was too strong for her. Olivia's laughter filled the hotel room. It was moments like this when Fitz loved his post-presidential life. When they were being silly jokesters… They had spent countless hours locked up in hotel rooms, trying to hide their love…but now, Olivia, carefree and alive was shrieking with loudly with joy. Fitz loved how her eyes were squinting with laughter. How her face was spread into the widest smiles.

_She looked so peaceful._

"Hey stranger…" Olivia said softly. Looking him in eyes. The laugher had died down and they were lost in each other's eyes. Her round brown ones versus his piercing grey ones….

"Hey." He answered back softly. He removed his hands from her wrist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She spread her legs open and he positioned himself comfortably between them.

"You look pretty hot for a sick guy." She said playfully, as her hand traveled through his thick brown locks. He smiled at her as he traced her face with his finger. Fitz loved every little detail from her full lips, to her button nose…then there was her soft skin, the tiny laugh lines around her mouth.

"You're pretty hot all the time." he said gently. And with that, he lowered his face to hers began kissing her softly.

It was sensual, slow and purposeful. They took their times exploring each other's mouths. Tongues caressing one another's ever so slightly. Her lips were so soft and full…but as time dripped along, the kiss got deeper, more impassioned. Olivia rolled them over, with her on top.

It was strange. Years of each other, countless nights, kisses, and soft caresses and the desire for her had never flamed out. His skin was alight with longing while was so stiff with excitement. He could barely contain himself. How was it possible that he had Liv for so long yet always wanted her every minute of every day?

She broke the kiss, looked deeply into his eyes and said sexily "Maybe I can bend the rules just this once."

It happened slowly, the clothes coming off, him kissing her every part of naked body, admiring her curves was like a dance. They had done it so many times, but each time, the excitement was still there, and his Livy took his breath away every time.

That night they had made love in a way that shook Fitz to his core. As he slowly moved inside her sleek, tight walls, he felt the trivial nature of life, his cold, the world and everything else matter less. When he reached his final zenith of passion, he collapsed, wearily laying his head on her soft, round breasts. She wrapped her arms around him, cradling him lovingly, whispering gently in his ear while she placed soft kisses on his head.

* * *

Olivia was comfortably asleep. She had broken her rules, but with Fitz that was normal. She was pretty sure she was going to have a cold but she did not care. It was worth it. She and Fitz had plenty of moments like this. Those moments that went beyond a committed couple's need to indulge in their carnal needs.

What they had was a speaking of the souls. A love making so entrenched in their feelings for one another it had left her breathless. At some point, she had felt tears of joy leaking out of her eyes. To think that he loved her so much moved her body, mind and spirit to places beyond comprehension.

So for her Blackberry to chime in the middle of her peaceful sleep had annoyed her to no end. Olivia and Fitz's bodies were so intertwined under the covers that she did not know where hers ended and his began.

_Buzz...buzzz…_

"Mm…" Fitz moaned in his sleep as Olivia tried to wiggle herself out of his grip to reach for her phone. But she was unsuccessful.

_Great, couldn't she wait for another four hours?_ Olivia thought irritated as she gently smacked Fitz's arm to wake him up. After a few attempts, he stirred, grunting annoyed.

"Fitz, honey, I need to answer my phone." She croaked softly. She looked down at him, his curls messy with sleep with his face so peaceful…he looked precious. It sucked she had to wake him. But his eyes began to flutter slowly, his long eyelashes batting frantically as he stirred once more finally releasing his hold over Olivia.

She reached for the buzzing phone and answered.

"Hello?" she greeted, yawning slightly.

The voice on the phone was one that she had not heard in years…it still had that frantic, youthful sound of a girl lost….

"Hi Liv, it's me, I just landed. What's the plan?" Quinn Perkins asked nervously. As Olivia attempted to get out of bed, Fitz's arms enclosed on the lower part of her body; one of his hands was traveling slowly down her thigh and in between her legs. _Even in his sleep…_Olivia thought slightly amused.

"The plan is still in effect. But for now, you keep your head down. Stay in the house and don't go anywhere. Do you understand me? No public anything. The state dinner is in three days. But I cannot stress how important it is you don't go out before the dinner party." Olivia said in a groggily.

"Okay." Quinn said.

"Good. Now, I'll talk to you later. Goodnight." Olivia clicked off her phone and placed it on the bedside table. She got back under the covers, her back to Fitz as he spooned her. She could feel his lips press into the back of her neck.

"Babe…who was that?" Fitz's voice cut through the dark room. _Good God! He had been awake._

Olivia said the only thing that could come to mind in her in her sleepy state.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

And with that, they cuddled closer in their cozy cocoon under the sheets. What Fitz and Olivia didn't know was neither of them was asleep after that. Because both were awake, worrying about who had been on the phone.


	25. Chapter 25

The next afternoon….

"So let me get this straight, this girl, Quinn Perkins is the illegitimate daughter of President Langston?" Cyrus asked confused. It was another muggy Washington morning. Olivia and Cyrus were having a delicious salmon brunch in her suite. They had been having a good time catching up on each other's lives alone, as Fitz had already headed to Capitol Hill for his testimony for the Grant World Initiative.

Cyrus was thriving has a professor at Georgetown University, as teaching had always been his first love. He seemed more relaxed, joked easier and had even managed to take a few vacations since Olivia last saw him. Olivia chatted about her work, life with Fitz and the change of pace that New York had given her.

However, like whenever they got together, the topic of politics often gave up. Not in the wonky policy sense but in terms of gossip. Cyrus still had many friends who worked for the Langston administration and on Capitol Hill, so their conversation revolved around who was dating with whom, which Congressmen hated each other, so on and so forth. This is how the topic of conversation had turned to Quinn Perkins at all.

Apparently there had been whispers in D.C about Sally's past. Her political opponents, eager make up for their failed attempt at impeaching Fitz, were doing serious operation research on the current president.

Olivia, a few days ago, had gotten an email from Stephen about this, hence her push for Fitz and her to come to D.C. Sure the state dinner was a reason, but it had more to do with who would be at the state dinner, and most importantly, in town. Julia Lopez, the bain of her existence from Stephen's investigation was planning another expose.

And this time, she would be naming names. She had already sent a transcript around and was in talk to reveal that Sally Langston had an illegitimate love child due to the unearthing of Quinn's original birth certificate, thanks to Derek Ramirez, who now worked as a lawyer for the justice department. She could not afford to meet with the girl alone, if the meeting was planned, just in case she decided to record one of their conversations for future reference. Or books.

"Yes. Look, I know this sounds crazy but it's the truth. I'm going to do as much damage control as I can while I'm in town. The girl is staying with some of my associates so we are going to have a sit down with one of Sally's people, Derek and try and reach an agreement. But I'm not taking her on as a case, that's my team's job but I will help out. The last time I took her on, years ago and I almost went to jail." Olivia said rushed, while taking a sip of white wine.

Cyrus was shaking his head as he cut into his poached egg. "You know, its times like this when I don't miss working in that building up the street. Does Fitz know?"

Olivia breathed in deeply as she helped herself to more salmon.

"No…he doesn't." Olivia answered hesitantly, Cyrus's eyes popped open.

"Liv! Why wouldn't you tell him about something like that?"

"Because Cy, I'm engaged! I'm in love and happy. And so his he, we are floating on cloud nine here. You think I want him dragged back into the drama? Especially with Julia and Derek. Every time he sees Derek's face on TV, he looks like he's going to punch something! There will be no dragging into anything. I like floating."

Cyrus's expression of was one of skepticism.

"Liv, the last thing he needs is another relationship where someone is lying to him."

"But I am not lying, I'm just not telling him about my work." She said unconvincingly as she cut into her salmon and shoved a fork full in her mouth to avoid further conversing about the matter at hand.

"Well, if you ask me, I say let Sally Langston sink. She's give us all a bad name. Did you see how she handled that entitlement reform bill? A disgrace…" Cyrus said, looking deep in thought. Olivia shot him a furtive look as she chewed.

"Sure but she's still one of us. She stood by Fitz last time around. And besides, we have dirt on Ramirez elder collecting dust. If he so much as steps out of line, his ass his grass. It's the girl I want to put a stop to."

"Tell you what; give me the contacts for everything and I'll handle the sit down, but you handle Julia. You don't need this mess on your hands. But deal with Julia and crush her like you know how Liv. And tell Fitz! Or I will."

Olivia sighed, sitting back in her chair and biting her lip. This was risky…but an idea popped in her head…crazy, nuts even but it could work.

* * *

Olivia and Cyrus spent the next few hours extensively planning. It was elaborate but it would work. Cyrus would have a sit down with Quinn, Stephen and Abby who would be defending Quinn, Derek and Louis Rothstein, the White House counsel. Derek would agree to not investigate if Quinn's paternity was made public in exchange for the Langston Administration placing her in the witness protection program. Or else, there would be extensive digging into the Ramirezs' again. They had made several phone calls, emailed the right people and were now sitting in the conference room of _Pope and Associates_, with Cyrus and the old team strategizing about their approach.

"Okay, so now that we have everything clear, the dinner party is a cover." Abby said business like. She had changed so much since Olivia had moved to New York. She seemed so much more happy, relaxed. Her marriage to Stephen had changed her.

"Right." Said Harrison who was pacing up and down the room. He was so much older now, Olivia had spent a few minutes before the meeting catching up with him. Still smooth as ever, but he too had matured.

"But what are we doing about Lopez?" Huck asked quietly, standing in front of the old I.S board. At this question, the whole room turned to look at Olivia.

She breathed a deep sigh. It felt odd, being back in this room in the swing of things. The nitty gritty of crisis management was something apart of her past. And while she loved it, she preferred handling corporate mergers and public relations for troubled celebrities, while raising money for charities. She did not miss the murder trials, the racing around Washington D.C in her Audi, shaking down corrupt politicians and criminals.

And yet here she was, dragged back into this by a simple email. A part of her, the part nervous about telling Fitz about all this over dinner later tonight wanted to jump on the plane, head back to New York and forget all of this. But she knew she needed to put this, most importantly Julia Lopez to bed once and for all if she was truly close that chapter in her life.

"Leave her to me. I know what to do." Olivia said focused.

"Liv, if you want, we can handle her too?" Stephen offered kindly.

"No, you guys handle the Quinn stuff. I'll unfortunately have to skip out on the party if I'm going to make this work. I cannot be seen coordinating with you guys. It will be a tip off to Derek who will probably tell Julia. I've got this." Or so she thought. As long as she could get Fitz on board, everything should work out as planned.

* * *

Julia Lopez was not looking forward to this White House State Dinner for a while. It was the first one she would be going to since "Phone-gate", where she would be in the same room with Olivia Pope and the former President.

While she had never been outed officially as the author of that expose, a lot of rumors had spread around town, and she had suspected Olivia was behind it. She had to cut off access immediately, much to her chagrin, with Mellie Grant who had been providing her a healthy feed of information that could have made for a sequel, or a future tell all book from the First Lady's perspective.

And what made it worse was the scandal had done nothing to really hurt any of the other parties. Derek had used it as a career making moment. Sure, they hung out at times, but the fact that he got notoriety off of her hard work had prevented them from going any further in her their relationship. They only were there for one another if the other person needed something professionally. Just thinking about it made her throw up.

Mellie Grant had not returned any of her phone calls for further information. The former First Lady was living quietly in Palm Springs and practicing corporate law, while doing charity work on the side. The media coverage had not been as positive as Julia had anticipated. Many people blamed her for the demise of the Grant marriage. "Ice Queen", "Dragon Lady" and "Devil in Chanel" were some of the cruel nicknames she was called, due to her perceived public indifference to her husband's passionate affair.

Julia was contractually bound so despite the handsome fees she received, she could not parlay the book into something more. She still had her job at Time, working long hours for her ancient editor who she hated. She still even lived in her tiny apartment seeing to avoid suspicion; she had to maintain her normal lifestyle.

And finally, there was the President and Olivia Pope. If it were even possible, they became members of the New York glitterati, a philanthropist power couple of epic proportions. How did this happen? How did she get the shaft? She was supposed to be the next Bob Woodward…

So she had another scheme up her sleeve. Derek, thanks to his job at the justice department had done some digging…and he had delivered the goods on Sally Langston. And this time, it would be going very public. With her name.

She stepped out of the limo and made her way up the walkway. There were flashing photographers but they did not dwell on her for very long. She was merely a reporter. There were actual Hollywood celebrities, state officials and the visiting delegation. Why would they focus on her for long?

_Not to mention I'm bloated as hell. _Julia thought bitterly. She hated how she looked. She had gained a lot of weight over the years, and the tight black Dolce and Gabbana gown was doing nothing to help her apple shape look more appealing. The only solace she could take was that her sandy blond shag had been styled into a pretty bun and her round apple cheeked face was professionally made up.

She walked down the a hallway and into the East Room, which was elegantly decorated for the night's event. White table clothes, center pieces filled with red roses and well-dressed guests littered the room.

_Table 14…Table 14…_she thought as she walked around trying to find her seat. At least that is what she remembered from her invitation.

But as she approached her table, she took a deep breath. The two people she probably hated the most, the Ex-President and Olivia Pope were seated at a table holding the Secretary of State, an A-List Actress, two banking CEO's and a prominent conservative talk show host. And all she could do was gulp.

To make matters worse, the couple looked incredible. Olivia was dressed in a gold sequenced number that was somewhat sheer. It was very Marilyn Monroe circa her "Happy Birthday Mr. President" performance. Her sleek mod bob was bone straight with thick long bangs and her eyes were heavily traced with black eyeliner. She looked like an Egyptian queen. Her date looked equally dashing in an extremely well-tailored tuxedo. It looked expensive.

"Hello." Julia said lamely as she sat at the table. Not that it mattered, seeing that the table was already swinging. Olivia Pope was the star, telling a story that had the whole table in stiches. But the president did the strangest thing. He greeted her.

"Julia! How are you?" He greeted brightly. He removed his arm from around his fiancé's chair and extended a hand. _Why the hell is he talking to me?_

Maybe he had someone brief him…yeah that was it. She thought as she reached out and shook his hand. But when she did, she felt a sense of electricity…his piercing grey eyes met hers.

_Okay it all makes sense…why women loved him. _She thought as his large, strong hand enclosed on hers. She shook it and released his hand as soon as she possibly could. Wow…

"Olivia, you remember Julia right? The reporter?" Fitzgerald said to his fiancé. Olivia turned her head away from the conversation and looked directly at Julia. She blinked slowly as her full nude lips spreading into a magnificent smile. It made her look more beautiful than it possibly could make any woman. She looked almost regal.

"Ah, yes of course." She said. But unlike her fiancé, she did not shake her hand. She merely nodded in her direction. "I remember you…"

* * *

The rest of the night had been the "Fitz and Liv" show. The couple was charming, funny and warm, holding court and the attention of the riveted table. Julia felt out of place seated among these power players….particularly when she had not much to contribute to the conversation. They were talking about European vacations, the stock market and which foreign dignitaries were the most annoying. So Julia was thankful when the music portion of the evening went into full effect and party had moved to the dance floor.

The one weird thing was at several points of the evening; she caught Olivia Pope staring intently. She could not read her expression but she seemed really focused…

The absurdity reached its height when Julia had been sitting by herself, having her ear talked of by the Secretary of State about his kids. It was then when she felt a tap on the shoulder. She looked up to see Fitzgerald Grant gazing intently at her.

"Hello" he said kindly. Julia had a hard time looking him directly in the eye. He and his ex-wife had that in common. It was as though he could read her thoughts…his eyes were out of this world.

"Hi." She stuttered. _What was with this guy?_

"I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me. My fiancé is kind of dancing the night away and I could use someone to entertain me." He winked charmingly.

The rational part of Julia's brain was on high alert. What the hell? Was this guy a philanderer or what? But the curious part of her brain that was so entranced by his presence could not help but say yes.

"Of course, Mr. President." She excused herself from the Secretary and walked side by side with him out of the crowded room. He kept staring at her…

"So Ms. Lopez, I've read your work. Very impressive, precise and sharp. Almost like you're a fly on the wall." He said smoothly.

_Well that was an odd statement…_

She stopped walking and looked at him. He was smirking at her, his eyes glittering with…something. _Did he know? Of course he probably did. He and Olivia were together. Maybe she didn't tell him…_

"Umm…thank you, Mr. President." Why was she so nervous?

_Maybe because this guy was almost 15 years older but could get me into bed with just one look. He was gorgeous…._

"You're welcome. So, what do you think of the dinner?" he asked.

"Umm…it was-"

"Boring? He said. There was that smirk again. And his voice…it did things, naughty things to her.

_What would that voice be like whispering in her ear? _

She gulped deeply as they walked outside onto the White House grounds. _Dear God!_ _Julia, you are headed toward Amanda Tanner territory._ It was a muggy spring night, with the contrast between the ink black night and the green grass as stark as ever. The Washington Monument was so beautiful at night from this vantage point.

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr. President, where are we going?" she asked nervously. They were approaching what looked like the Rose Garden.

"Having fun…" he whispered mysteriously. So this is how it went down. This could make for an interesting book.

He stopped and turned towards her, staring intently into her eyes. Julia felt the wind knocked out of her as he took her hand and led her toward the sitting area. Fitzgerald let go of her hand and did the most sensual thing she had ever had done to her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"I've wanted this for a long time." He said deeply. But as he pulled back, someone else popped into view behind them.

"Olivia?" Julia said shocked. She could feel her brain fizzing and over working to form a rational explanation for why she was standing in the dark Rose Garden with her fiancé. But instead Olivia smiled widely and took a seat. She looked even more stunning in the dark; her brown skin was almost aglow with the reflection of her dress.

"Good job, Fitz." She said jovially as Fitzgerald walked toward the sitting area and had a seat, watching the scene unfold.

"No problem babe." He said smiling. What the hell?

Julia had never experienced the range of emotions she had in such a short period of time. Was this a set up?

But she had no time to dwell.

"So, what's this I hear about you writing another book?" Olivia asked coldly, blinking slowly. Julia's tongue was stuck? She could barely breathe. What was wrong with these people?

"Maybe you should just cut to the chase, Livy." Fitzgerald said, his eyes shining with a look of triumph.

Olivia smiled, cocking her head and pursing her lips.

"Great idea. Sit down." She commanded harshly. Julia could do nothing but follow her order. She sat down across from the couple, both of whom were staring at her in a way that made her feel like she was in a _Law & Order_ style interrogation.

"Now…" Olivia said sweetly. "Here's what's going to happen. You are going to redact that sorry excuse of a transcript you have going around because your career in this town is over. I have had it up to my very fake eyelashes with you stirring up the pot. You ruin lives, Julia. You're not a journalist, you're a sensationalist and worse, you have no regards for people's feelings. Sally Langston, while kooky and flawed has a happy marriage with a husband who loves her. What you don't know is the child she had with Vincent Perkins was the product of a vicious and abusive relationship. It brings back bad memories. So for you to drudge up old wounds for this poor woman is low, even for you."

Julia could feel herself trembling. Why did she keep doing this? Why did these people keep destroy her life?

"It...was…just..." she tried to stutter out. But she could not form the words.

"Honey, I'm going back inside. I think you can handle this yourself." Fitzgerald smiled at his fiancé lovingly as though they were having a romantic picnic.

"Sure." Olivia said brightly. He got up, placed a kiss on Olivia's cheek and walked away into the night.

"Now where was I, ah yes, the ending of your career. You are going to turn in your letter of resignation, move, get out of D.C, or any major city. I don't_ ever _want to see your face again. If I so much as hear a peep out of you again, I will have someone writing an expose about you. Is that understood?" Olivia said hissing out angrily. Her eyes were cold and focused.

Julia could not contain herself. She could not stop shaking…

Olivia got up and walked away, leaving Julia to cry and contemplate looking into real estate in Kansas when she got home.


	26. Chapter 26

Later that evening…

_Fitz is really quiet. _Olivia thought to herself as she looked at him. They were sitting in the limo headed back to the hotel and he had barely uttered a word as he stared out the window. He usually was talkative and festive after events, but he had become a little withdrawever since Olivia returned into to the table after their little chat with Julia.

Suffice to say that she had not returned to the table afterwards, but it was not something that went noticed.

"Fitz." She said softly as the limo pulled into the round drive way of the Hay-Adams entrance. It took him a second to register her voice. He turned his head toward her and gave her a tight smile. But Olivia knew him better than anyone. Looking in his eyes, even in the dark she could tell he was not himself.

As they got out the limo and made their way into the gilded lobby, Olivia noticed the lines in his face were more pronounced and his jaw was tense.

"Good evening Mr. President, Ms. Pope" the elevator attendant said as they stepped in the elevator, but she ignored the young man. Olivia was concerned and was confused? What was with the silent treatment?

"Is it supposed to feel like this?" Fitz asked quietly, staring ahead at the elevator door. Olivia's head whipped around. His shoulders were slightly slumped and he looked angry…

"What are you talking about?" Olivia asked bewildered as the elevator opened to reveal their suite. She pulled out the key for their door and swung it open. But Fitz did not bother waiting to walk into the bedroom of the suite. He brushed passed her and into the bedroom, slamming the door hard.

Olivia could feel her frustration building. They had a nice evening, had even taken care of business and for some reason, he was acting like a petulant child. She stormed in the room to see Fitz angrily taking off his tuxedo jacket.

"What's up your ass?" Olivia snapped. She had enough of this.

He stopped midway through taking off his bow tie and stared at her. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down. But judging by the flush in his face, the vein throbbing in his neck and how his eyes had darkened, he was far from calm.

"Do you get some kind of sick pleasure from doing that?" Fitz asked his voice quivering with anger.

Olivia was confused. _What the hell was he talking about?_

"Do I get sick pleasure out of asking you what's up your ass?" She asked slightly bemused.

"Don't get smart with me Olivia! I'm talking about what we did tonight! Huh? Fixer?" he said viciously. _He had called her Olivia. He only did that when he was mad._

But then it all clicked. He was upset about what happened with Julia. But he had a roundabout way going about confronting Olivia. But she was not going to give him the easy way out. Despite how great their relationship was and how much the communicated with one another, they still fought. Normally it ended in a hug and a kiss. But she could tell from the way he was seething, tonight would not be one of those nights.

Because she had kept secrets from him and he was not going to let that go from the looks of things.

"Fitz." Olivia said softly as she slowly walked over to him. He was ripping off his clothes so violently, she was fearful he would rip something.

"Listen." He said staring her in the eye as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. "The next time you want to channel Mellie, let me know ahead of time. That way I know that I should avoid you. I'm not doing your dirty work next time."

Olivia could not believe what she just heard. She was trying to be the bigger person but she did not how much of this she could tolerate before he temper got the best of her.

"Fitz…I'm going to pretend like you did not say that. We can talk about this calmly like adults, I can get you a drink and we can start over." She said, trying to keep her voice even. But he plopped on the bed folded his arms and sneered at her.

"Typical." He said dismissively. But that was Olivia's undoing. Her chest heaved with the anger. It was boiling to its pinnacle, dancing along that line but it had not reached yet.

"What's typical, Fitz? You want to do this, you want to pick a fight, and then come on!" Olivia shouted. _How dare he mock her?_

He got up slowly, walked toward her and unleashed.

"Tell me Olivia, is this how you do it? You go around threatening and blackmailing people? Manipulating the weak for your own personal gain? Because before tonight, I was under the impression that you had standards, but evidently you don't. You use me to seek revenge and you expect, what that we are going to come home and have drinks like nothing happened?"

He was breathing so heavily, he might have busted a lung. However, Olivia's anger was creeping up into her throat, her head and her veins, heating up her body with rage. Over the years, Fitz had done a lot of things to hurt her, but they were not intentional. This was too much.

"First of all,_ Fitzgerald_, let's be clear about something. I have never pretended to be a saint. I have clients, I have cases and that is what I do. Don't go there…don't. you. dare." She said furious, jabbing her finger into his chest with each word.

He stared at her angrily, then brushed passed her to walk into the sitting room. But Olivia followed him. He had done it, he had triggered that uncontainable anger that she had not unleashed since that day in the Oval Office years ago when she found out about Amanda.

"Oh, that's really brave, walk away!" She yelled at him. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. He whipped around stared at her as she finally exploded.

"Before you get self-righteous, just remember, lover boy that what I did tonight, I have done plenty of times on your behalf. Whether it was me or someone else, so before you get off judging me, look in the fucking mirror! You remember Amanda Tanner…yeah! I did the same thing, attack and destroyed for you!"

She had it a nerve. She could see his mind churning, his lips getting thinner as he walked slowly toward her.

"Olivia, don't go there with me right now. We aren't talking about that, we are talking about what happened tonight, and whether you want to admit that or not, it was fucking wrong!" He shouted, his voice getting louder with every word.

But Olivia could give as good as she got. She walked toward him, invading his space making sure he knew just how much he had pissed her off.

"Was it wrong when you and Cyrus asked me to do it to Mellie? Or when I did it to every single person who ever had a disparaging word to say about you! Or is it only wrong when it's not about us! Anything to make you feel better about fucking another woman who wasn't your wife for years, huh! I've been doing your dirty work for years, babe!" Olivia said on top of her lungs. Her eyes were bulging and her face was screwed up in rage. He took a few steps back as she rounded on him.

"Oh, please-"

"Don't "OH PLEASE ME"! Live with it Fitz! Live with the fact that I'm a pit bull, it's what I fucking do! Why don't you just admit the fact that you don't like the fact that I kept Quinn a secret. And then I will say I'm sorry-"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT THAT!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT ABOUT? BECAUSE IT'S DEFINITELY NOT ABOUT YOUR MORALS WHEN YOU'VE NEVER HAD ANY!"

There it was . She had said it. Olivia had brought up the 800 pound elephant in the room. The unmentionable guilt. The icky feelings of remorse that plagued her for years. The fact that they had both done deplorable things to maintain their relationship.

"Fuck you!" Fitz yelled with rage. Even in her angered state, she was startled, she had never seen him like this.

"Liv, I left the mother of my children for you! Because I fucking love you. I've always loved you and it hurts to know that you go around ruining people's lives because it benefits you! I've heard about it, but I've never seen it! I didn't give a fuck about Mellie doing it because that's who she is! You…don't…ruin…lives! So you don't get to cope out." His voice had echoed through the suite. It lingered, but despite it all, Olivia needed to hit below the belt. He was going to pay for putting her on a pedestal.

"THAT'S REALLY RICH, YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE. TELL ME, WHEN WE WERE HAVING OUR AFFAIR, WHEN I WAS FORCED TO LIVE IN MY MOTHER'S HOUSE, AND BE QUESTIONED BY MY EX-BOYFRIEND AND A BUNCH OF LAWYERS ON HOW AND WHERE I SUCKED YOUR COCK, WERE YOU WORRIED HOW YOU RUNINED BY LIFE?" Olivia screamed so loudly, her throat felt like it was ripped apart.

With each word, Fitz's eyes got wider, his mouth hanging open in horror. But Olivia did not stop. She could not stop. He did not get to hurt her, not again. She got closer to him, shoving him slightly as tears of anger and hurt built in her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how much I've given up for you! For us! Get of your fucking high horse! I'm not your little princess, Fitzgerald! But I'm not Mellie either. But that explains a lot now! Thank you for _sooo_ eloquently explaining how you really feel! Why I wasted almost a decade of my life waiting for you!"

She was yelling through her tears. But she still could not stop herself. Bringing people down was not easy for her. And for Fitz, of all people to judge her for it hurt. It was something she had never faced. Never wanted to face. And she had always comforted herself by just accepting that she was doing her job.

His face was slowly melting from its stone cold angry state to a look of pained confusion.

"Liv-" he said, is voice breaking with emotion, but Olivia was having none of it. She stormed out of the sitting room, into the bedroom and began pulling pillows and sheets off the bed. She was pretty sure she looked ridiculous with her running make-up and her gown but she could care less. She bundled up the sheets, ran into the sitting room and threw them across the room.

"Liv, I'm sorry -" Fitz began to same sadly but Olivia was too overcome.

"Fuck you! You don't get to apologize. And don't come into the room in the middle of the night, so help me God!" she yelled hysterically. She ran into the bedroom as Fitz tried to follow her. But before she slammed the door in his face, she caught a glimpse of his hurt face. For the briefest of seconds, she wanted to call truce. But he had to know how much him saying those things hurt. She locked the door and ran into the bathroom.

She could not control the tears anymore. They took over her body as she shook from sobbing so hard. She slid onto the floor and curled into a ball, crying until she could no longer hear the sound of Fitz knocking on the bedroom door and him saying "Baby, I'm sorry" over and over.

All the crying had made her light-headed and nauseous after a while. She felt dizzy and had a headache pounding away at her temples. But before she knew it, she was face first into the toilet, throwing up.

After she emptied her stomach, she laid her head on the bathroom tile, curling into a ball wishing she could put her pride aside and tell Fitz how truly sorry she really was.


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning…

Fitz had been awake all night. He was standing by the window that gave him a view of the White House, while doing the one thing he had not done since he was Governor, and that was smoking cigarettes.

_As if I need another reason for Livy to me mad at me. _He thought bitterly as he took a heavy drag of the cigarette and allowed the smoke to circulate through his lungs. He missed the sensation, the taste of tobacco and how calming it was. He had room service bring him up a pack. _Parliaments, _just like the old days.

He was still dressed in his undershirt and tuxedo slacks, due to the fact that Olivia had locked him out of the room. He had practically worn out his voice, banging on the door, apologizing. And even from behind the door, he could hear her sobs. And it tore him apart. Sure, he and Olivia had fought; after all, they were passionate people with short fuses. But never like this. Even with Amanda, the abortion and everything that had gone on, he had never seen her completely loose it.

_You went too far. _He thought silently as he walked over to the coffee table and dumped the building ash into the crystal ash tray.

But did he go too far? He thought for the hundredth time. Parts of his words last night were true, no matter how much he tried to let her off the hook. It had made him sick to his stomach to see Olivia sneering at Julia Lopez. In that moment, the kind, compassionate woman he fell in love with was a cold, cruel bully. Even thinking about it made his stomach turn over uncomfortably. But he had seen glimpses of her in that mode. When she was angry and focused, so why did it surprise him?

_She knew how to hurt. _Fitz thought silently as took another hit of the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl into white spirals as he walked back to the window. The sun was beginning to come out, leaving a beautiful amber glow over the White House. The sight of it made Fitz wistful. It made him think about all the times Olivia and him made love at dawn, or stayed up talking while listening to music. It tore him up inside. But it was a testament to how strong his love for her was. With Mellie, he would drink his misery away, bitterly wishing she would just leave him alone after a fight. But with Olivia, he fought tooth and nail; he actually cared and had spent the night reflecting on what had gone wrong.

But as he put the cigarette to his lips for another drag, he heard a knock on the door. He put out his cigarette and made his way to the door hearing a voice say "Room Service." But as he reached out to open the door, he felt heart leaped into his throat as the bedroom door behind him clicked open. Olivia walked out the bedroom, draped in his oversized maroon Harvard shirt. Her hair was tousled from sleep, which he was trying to smooth down with her hand.

_She's stunning in the morning._ He thought as she walked past him and opened the door, not saying a word. She let the attendant roll the cart into the bedroom, all the while avoiding his gaze. He wished he had the strength to ignore her, to not admire her beautifully sculpted legs and how soft her skin looked in the glow of dawn's light, but he could not.

And making it harder for him, she left the door to the bedroom open. Fitz breathed in deeply as he walked in the bedroom. The attendant was handing her newspapers and setting up a breakfast tray in bed for her.

"Do you need anything else Ms. Pope?" the attendant asked as made his way toward the cart.

"No, that will be all." She said hoarsely, as she flipped through the stack of newspapers. She did not look up at either Fitz or the attendant as she spoke. Fitz put his hands in his pocket and awkwardly bounced on the ball of his feet, waiting for the attendant to leave.

"As you wish ma'am, Good day, Mr. President." He nodded politely as he rolled the cart out the bedroom. Fitz waited for to hear the main door of the suite close before he spoke. But Olivia beat him to the punch.

"I have the Journal if you wanted it." She said casually, as she flipped through a copy of the New York Times. Fitz carefully studied Olivia, propped up on the head board with her shoulders relaxed, she was not still upset. She just did not want to be the one who apologized first.

_She's going to make you apologize. _He thought wearingly as he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.

"How are you?" he asked softly. He cautiously lifted a hand toward her leg, waiting for a reaction but she did not flinch. It was safe for her to touch her. So he began softly caressing her leg. She still did not look up from the newspaper. _But of course, his Livy would make this difficult. _

"Do I smell smoke?" She asked coolly, cocking her eyebrow so high it disappeared in her thick bangs.

Fitz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Here it came. He took a deep breath as Olivia reached over to the tray on the bed and began pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Umm…yeah." He said nervously. But she continued to ignore him, however it did not make Fitz upset. He knew her. She was too proud to actually make the first move so she was trying to play it cool. He sat there, still rubbing her smooth leg as she sipped her coffee and read the paper. He studied her face carefully. Her eyes were not focused on the print. He knew when Olivia was reading and how her eyes would travel rapidly from left to right. As of now, they were zeroed in on one particularly part of the page. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were pursed.

_Any minute now…_Fitz thought. And like clockwork, she swung her short legs over the bed and got up. But before she got get far, Fitz reached out and grabbed her soft, tiny hand and pulled her toward him. He spread his legs and wrapped his arms around her thin waist, resting his weary head against her chest. He could feel her tense up, her arms by her side, resisting the urge to touch him.

"I'm sorry." He said his voice cracking. He slowly unraveled his arms and gripped her hips firmly. He looked up at her face. It was slowly morphing from cool indifference to sorrowful remorse. Her eyes were getting wider, rounder and warmer. Her lips were parted slightly.

Fitz then allowed his hands to travel from her shapely hips to her thighs. Her breathing became halting and louder. Fitz kept his eyes on hers as he did this. Slowly but surely she was giving in.

"God." She whispered heavily as her slowly lifted the shirt, exposing her flat stomach and a pair of black cotton underwear. He gently placed soft kisses on her smooth skin, inhaling the intoxicating smell of her. That mix between the soap she had used last night and her perfume. It was sweet, soft and feminine.

But as Fitz's fingers began to slowly make their way toward the waist band of underwear, she grabbed his hands.

"I'm going to stay in Washington for another week." She said her voice heavy with emotion. Fitz's looked her deeply in her eyes. She needed time to think, time to cope. Olivia did not have to say it out loud but he could see it written in her face. He nodded slowly as her face screwed up as she fought the inevitable tears.

"Okay." He gently whispered as he brought her closer, hugging her midsection. She lovingly placed her hands on his head on brought her soft lips to his forehead and placed a kiss. He could feel the wetness of her tears falling into his hair. They stood like that for a moment, finding solace in each other's embrace. He let her cry, weep softly and come undone. He wanted to beg her to come back to New York with him, he wanted to lay her on the bed and relive that magical time they had a few nights ago. But he needed to stay in the warmth of her arms because it was all that seemed right in the world.

* * *

A few days later…

Olivia was having dinner with Abby and Stephen in their home. It was a beautiful white brick town house, covered in Ivory, situated in the most exclusive areas of Georgetown. It was elegantly decorated in varying shades of blue (Abby's favorite color) however, it had the feel of not being broken into. Most of the rooms look like they had never been used, and the carpets still had that rubbery new smell to them, Olivia observed as she sat in the dining room. The table was so unused; she could still smell the fresh oak.

Ever since she had moved to New York with Fitz, Stephen and Abby had taken over the Washington D.C office of Pope & Associates. So naturally, they would not be home a lot.

"So how did the dinner go?" Olivia inquired as she took a sip of her soup. She could be eating some of the mash potatoes and leg of lamb that Abby had made ,but she felt sick, so she was sticking to the clam chowder. Come to think of it, Olivia had been feeling nauseous ever since Fitz had left to New York and she could not put her finger on it.

"It was what it was, Ramirez was a jerk, but he knew what the deal was." Stephen said shrugging his shoulders as he tucked into his mash potatoes.

"Not to mention Beene played hardball, so Langston should be sleeping soundly. How's the president?" Abby inquired with a raised eyebrow. Olivia could see Stephen trying to kick Abby from underneath the table.

"It's fine, I can talk about it, it's not like we are broken up. Just that we hit a rough patch. This business does that to you." Olivia said kindly. She could see Stephen's black eyes full of worry. They were going out of their way to be nice to her; she had seen them do this before. Abby and Stephen often worried about her relationship with Fitz. The slightest hiccup and they were turning into the stereotypical concerned parents she often saw in the movies.

Stephen reached out a warm hand and patted her arm, as if to say "We are here for you." Even Abby was looking at her like she was a hospital patient.

Olivia looked at the couple and rolled her eyes. They were being ridiculous.

"Guys." She said laughing, as she sat back in her seat. "Come on, you know me! I'm fine. I just need a few days."

"Liv, we understand, Fitz was upset and that could be stressful, but you have to take care of yourself." Abby said, in an uncharacteristic voice with an almost maternal tone.

_What the hell?  
_ "What are you talking about?" She asked laughing.

"Well, you've been sick, you haven't been eating-"

"I'm not eating because I'm sick. Look, I'm-"

But Olivia could not finish her sentence. She could feel the creamy soup bubbling up her throat. Her stomach had was violently stirring like a washing machine cycle and her head was swimming.

"Olivia!" Abby yelled. She shot out of her seat and ran by Olivia's side to guide her toward the kitchen and toward the waste basket. Olivia threw up violently, retching until there was nothing left in her system while Abby rubbed her back.

"Stephen! Grab a warm towel." Abby yelled as Olivia leaned against the marble countertop. It was like she was seeing stars. She could hear the shuffling of feet behind her as she felt Abby guiding her toward a seat. Stephen kneeled in front of her, his face scrunched up with worry.

"Liv, are you okay, do you need anything?" He asked dabbing her face with a heated washcloth.

Olivia felt so weak she could barely answer. Abby was standing over Stephen looking equally worried.

"Olivia, what's going on?" Abby asked slowly and loudly.

"I…don't-"she started, her voice trembling. She was beginning to regain some kind of clarity.

"I've just. Been feeling crappy. My head is always foggy, my stomach feels weird I just feel-"

Olivia paused mid-sentence. It finally clicked. She remembered the last time she had felt this way. The violent outburst of anger, feeling like crap…it was bringing back memories.

"Oh. MY. God!" Olivia said loudly. Abby and Stephen were staring at her like she was crazy.

"What?"

"I have to call Fitz!"


	28. Chapter 28

Two months later…

Olivia was propped up against the headboard watching television and scrolling through her Blackberry. She had taken the day off, thanks to Fitz.

_Leave it to him to fuss over me._

Although he had good reason to worry, seeing that Olivia was about two and a half months along in her pregnancy and her doctor had advised her to take it easy. She was not exactly a spring chicken and it was risky for her to overstress herself in her first trimester, so she typically went into the office a couple of times a week and had reduced her appearances at events, sticking to working from her laptop and home office.

They had not exactly announced their happy news to anyone with the exception of close friends and family, all of whom were sworn to secrecy. After all, they were in the midst of planning a wedding. After long discussions and countless debates, they had decided to make it official, seeing that it was becoming a hassle as far as their finances and businesses. Not to mention, Olivia's mother was old fashioned and insisted that they were too old to be playing house after all this time, especially with a baby on the way.

The media had gone wild when they had released a press statement announcing their wedding date. Speculating on the dress, the location. It seemed the public's idea of their wedding was more extravagant than their own. It would be small, intimate and would take place on the ranch in Santa Barbara. Invitations were made, the house was being prepared and everything was running according to plan, at least for now.

_I need to confirm if I can get the Marsalis brothers. _Olivia thought to herself as she reviewed the background checks on her Blackberry from her latest client. From the looks of things, the report was not as thorough as she asked. But before she could shoot her assistant Lisa an email, a knock came at her bedroom door.

"Coming!" she chimed, putting her phone on the side table as she slowly climbed off the king size bed and made her way to open the door.

"Hello, pregnant lady." Karen said smirking. _She looked just like her father when she did that_ Olivia thought smiling.

"Hey! What are you doing in town?" Olivia said, reaching out to hug the taller woman. She had not seen her since Jerry's graduation from Harvard.

"Well, I figured I'd visit my favorite stepmom, catch up on my shopping." Karen said brightly as she strode past Olivia, dropping her duffle bag onto the floor. She hopped on the bed and kicked off her cowboy boots.

Olivia laughed. Karen had a way of making herself comfortable no matter where she was, even if it meant on her father and stepmother's bed.

"How's your mom?" Olivia asked as she walked toward the bed and sat next to Karen, who lying on her stomach with the television remote in her hand.

"Urgh! Same old, same old. Still bugging me to settle down. She wants me to work in a hospital in the States, says I'm travelling too much." Karen said flippantly as she channeled surfed.

"Ah, I see. Well, that comes with the territory. But seriously Karen, as much as your father and I are proud of you, your mom has a point. _Doctors Without Borders_ is admirable, but it's also dangerous. There are plenty of hospitals around the country who need neonatal surgeons." Olivia said kindly. But Karen made a face, rolling her eyes. She rolled over to look at Olivia shaking her head.

"Nice to know you are taking the Ice Queen's side now, speaking of which, is she invited to the wedding?" Karen said jokingly.

Olivia sighed. Karen had always had a complicated relationship with her mother, and with good reason. They were two different people from different generations, two ideas on relationships and lifestyle. Mellie, older, traditional and conservative with an icy demeanor was very different from her warm, brash daughter who loved boho fashion and had a different boyfriend whenever Olivia saw her. Not to mention, Karen had her father's desire to save the world through philanthropic methods.

As far as the wedding was concerned, Fitz and Olivia were still debating whether to send Mellie an invitation. There was still a lot of bad blood.

But despite all the personal enmity between Olivia and Mellie, she made sure she played devil's advocate when Karen complained about her mother. She was never comfortable speaking ill of the Karen and Jerry's mother.

"Kar, that's not fair." Olivia said softly, as she rubbed her pregnant belly.

"Bullshit!" Karen said laughing, lying on her back, her grey eyes aglow. It was uncanny how similar her eyes were to Fitz's. The Grant eyes…as he jokingly called them.

"I'm serious. You should be nice. So, tell me all about France, what's this I hear about you and this guy you met."

"Ha! You mean that loser, Pierre, I dumped him. He couldn't get it up after three tequila's." Karen said loudly. Unfortunately as she said this, Fitz walked through the door.

"Karen, you better not be talking about what I think you're talking about." Fitz said smiling as he walked over to Olivia and kissed her.

"Hey baby." He said brightly to Olivia. He tousled Karen's hair, causing her to laugh out loud.

"Hey! Watch the hair." Karen said, playfully punching her dad in the arm.

_They were too much._ Olivia thought as she laughed at their playfulness.

"Well, maybe if you didn't invade our bedroom, your hair would be safe." Fitz said as he loosened his tie and sat down next to Olivia. "So what are you doing in town?"

Karen smirked. "Ask the pregnant lady." She said jokingly.

Fitz cocked an amused eyebrow at Olivia. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"She's taking some time to visit me and shop." Olivia said nodding slowly. Fitz smiled and shook his head humored.

"Well, as long as you are using your own credit cards." Fitz said jokingly. "Well, I'm glad you're into town to visit your old man. But kid, you got to learn how to respect our privacy." He said, shaking his head.

Karen rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I'm visiting Olivia as research." She said in a serious voice.

"Research?" Fitz asked quizzically as he looked from Karen to Olivia. But Karen's smile spread out into a million dollar grin.

" I'm curious to know how my old fart of a dad knocked up this grade A hottie."

Olivia laughed as Fitz threw a pillow at Karen, which she caught.

"But all jokes aside, when are you guys going to tell people about Grant numero three? I mean, Olivia is beginning to show." Karen said thoughtfully, as she sat up and folded her legs Indian style.

"What do you mean? We've told everyone who's worth telling?" Olivia said confused as she laid her head on Fitz's shoulder. She was beginning to feel a bit drowsy. But that was something that came with her pregnancy.

"I _mean _the press." Karen said, rolling off the bed and pulling her cowboy boots back on.

"Umm…when we are good and ready. Get out of here." Fitz said laughing, throwing another pillow at her. She shrieked with laugher as she ducked.

"Fine, don't tell, but sooner or later someone's going to pick up on it." Karen said as she grabbed her duffle bag.

Olivia chuckled. "You can take the guest room down the hall, Karen." She offered kindly.

"Yeah, and I better not see any boys coming out that room Kar, I mean it." Fitz said warningly as Karen grabbed her duffle bag and walked out the door.

"Yeah, yeah , yeah." She said jokingly as Fitz hung his head. Olivia could not help but laugh.

"What are we going to do with that girl?" Olivia asked.

Fitz shook his head. "You know, I used to wonder what my parent's meant by I was too much. Now it all makes sense."

"Yeah, well. She's at that age." Olivia offered softly as she closed her eyes. "So how was your day?"

"Eh. It was the same old, same old." He said wearingly.

Olivia could not help but smile. _The Grant genes are a lot stronger than I gave them credit for. _


	29. Chapter 29

Weeks later…

Life with Karen, as Olivia learned was a revolving door. She was impulsive, messy and loud, not that Olivia minded, because she found it amusing how flustered Fitz would become by his daughter's behavior. There was her hour long showers and her doing yoga in the middle of the kitchen, (which had confused and frightened Nina, their housekeeper). In addition to this was her habit of blasting music at odd hours of the day, and an incident where Olivia had caught her sneaking a boy into her room in the middle of the night.

_Fitz would die. _Olivia thought humored. She had innocently been going to get a glass of milk when she saw Karen sneaking a big, blond haired young man who looked very drunk and very much like a Brooks Brother's model.

But despite all her wild behavior, she was very good company. She was attentive and helped Olivia cope with how uncomfortable being pregnant was. And uncomfortable was an understatement.

It was not like Olivia did not enjoy being pregnant, if anything she loved it. If it were even possible, it had bonded Fitz and her more than ever before. He came home earlier and went out of his way to accommodate Olivia's needs which were becoming a handful. After all, her hormones were in constant flux. One minute, she was happy the next, she was bursting into tears because Fitz had passed her the carrots at dinner. She would get tired, cranky and felt extremely conscious of her widening hips. (Although her breasts had blown up, much to Fitz's delight). Not to mention, she hated the morning sickness and the incessant drowsiness.

But one of the challenges had been hiding their pregnancy from the media. Despite their committed effort to cut down on appearances and announce their news after the wedding, the sheer impracticality of Olivia's growing belly was becoming a problem. They had even considered moving the wedding up a few weeks so they could make the announcement and be done with it. But she had found crafty ways of hiding their little secret.

Thankfully, she had ordered new clothes. A few media outlets had reported that she was starting a trend on the runway due to her affinity for baby doll and empire waist dresses. Or at least Vogue thought so.

_Gone are the white suits and sheath dresses. She's channeling the Onassis years with the wide leg slacks, tunics and wrap dresses. With her fashionable mod bob outgrown into a sexy 70's era shag, it's not hard to see where everyone's favorite fixer is finding her inspiration._

Olivia had laughed at the article as she observed the side by side comparison pictures between her and the late First lady. _If only they knew…_

But Olivia was having a more difficult time with her fashion choices on this day. However sliming black was she was still struggling trying to find an outfit for an event that no one, well scratch that, Fitz had not seen coming.

* * *

The event in question was a funeral for a man that Olivia had found to be the most obnoxious human being on the face of the planet. As terrible as it seemed, she had laughed out loud when she heard that he not only died, but how he died.

Anthony DeCastro was the kind of man so cartoonish; Olivia often wondered if he had been born to an actual woman or if screenwriters had made him up. Born in Brooklyn, he was a working class kid who used his smarts, guts and ambition to become one of the financial industries most respected figures. He ran one of the country's premiere private equity firms, had served on Fitz's Board of Economic Council during his first term and had advised numerous presidents on economic policy. Bar none, the man was a genius with a Midas touch for making money and had dominated Wall Street for years.

However, his whole being, fat, arrogant and sexist in a way that had not been socially acceptable since the 1940s had been off putting to no end. Always armed with a cigar and clad in a pinstriped suit, Olivia had the misfortune of knowing him since she was a teenager. He had been a golfing buddy to her father and had dinner at her family's home. Even then, he was a creep. He had tried at one point to flirt with her. It was not until her mother made it clear that Olivia was only a teenager at the time did he stop. And he continued to flirt with her. Even years later, when Olivia worked in the Grant White House, he had made several passes at her at meetings and White House events.

Rumor had it he had suffered a heart attack while in the throes of passion with his very young Korean assistant. (She had been the one who "found" him in his master bedroom in the middle of the day. Although police had found a diamond stud very similar to the one the assistant was missing when they arrived on the scene, along with a bottle of Viagra).

"Fitz, do we have to?" Olivia whined as she rummaged through her closet in her bathrobe looking for something to wear.

"Yes! The man was a mentor to me." He said as he tied the laces on his dress shoes while sitting on their bed.

Olivia rolled her eyes as she walked out closet and followed her arms over her protruding belly.

"I'm cranky, I'm fat and the last time I saw this prick, he tried to grab my ass in the middle of an economic briefing! You know this funeral is going to be a circus; there will be reporters for days? What if someone notices?" She said as she sat down next to Fitz. He sat up and smiled at her, placing a loving kiss on her forehead.

"Anthony was…a little colorful but he meant well, come on a woman lost he husband today. Be a little sensitive." Fitz said stroking her cheek. Olivia raised an eyebrow and she could see Fitz trying to fight laughter.

"Ha!" said Olivia triumphantly, standing up. "You can't even keep a straight face. And besides, I don't know how tragic this is. The man died fucking his mistress. He went happy."

Fitz laughed, shaking his head.

"We are hardly ones to judge people being unfaithful Liv; Anthony had a pension for a lot of food. That probably had more to do with his death than him being in the missionary position." Fitz said smirking.

Olivia turned to walk away, rolling her eyes, but Fitz grabbed her arm and embraced her.

"Hey. You're not fat. You don't get to call yourself fat, cranky yes but you're gorgeous." He crooned softly as he placed gently kisses on each one of her cheeks.

She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thanks for that, I don't believe you but thanks. I have nothing to wear." She said making a sad face.

"No, no you are not weaseling your way out of this one. Just wear something lose that will hide your stomach! I need someone there for moral support." He said rubbing his nose to hers.

"Fine. But you should take Karen." She said, breaking the embrace and poking him playfully in the chest as she got ready.

"Yeah right!" Fitz joked back. "You realize she's been asleep all day? Even if I woke her up now, she would not be ready in time."

* * *

The funeral had been a tacky circus of epic proportions. It took place in Church of St. Vincent Ferrer, overloaded with former presidents, Wall Street CEOs and a bevy of Senators, state officials and foreign dignitaries. The eulogizes were long and aggrandizing, completely overlooking the obvious faults of the dearly departed man. And the press had closed down the street due to the sheer number of reporters and photographers. To Olivia, the whole event was a waste of a perfectly good Alexander McQueen black dress, particularly one that hid her stomach so well.

The most comical moment had come when Patricia DeCastro, Anthony's long suffering wife had proclaimed that he was an "honest and faithful man, so unselfish and humble, God himself could not compare." There had been actual snickering from many of the mourners when this was said. Including from Fitz. Olivia had to nudge him in the side to keep him from laughing out loud.

The proceedings got worse when the man was actually buried. First, it had started to drizzle slightly, and then there was Patricia's incessant howling of sorrow, so loud the priest could not finish his eulogy and was forced to stop and comfort her. Suffice to say, there was uncomfortable coughing and snickering at this as well. The icing on the cake had been when Anthony's alleged mistress had arrived late to the cemetery, resulting in a screaming match between Patricia and a security guard who she blamed for the woman's arrival.

"I've had it up to here with HIS BIMBOS!" she had yelled, as her heavily made up face screwed up with rage.

Finally, some selected guest had been invited for an after party of sorts at the DeCastro's Lexington Ave brownstone. The whole place was tacky, just like the man himself, loaded up with gold, antiques and ornate carpets. Olivia and Fitz were sitting in the family room along with many of the other guests, listening to a very drunk Patricia tells stories at the center of the room, alternating between how special "her Tony" was and how much of a "filthy scumbag" he was.

"Okay, I will stop making fun of you for dressing like Evita." Fitz whispered in Olivia's ear, referring to Olivia's black pillbox fascinator that he had spent much of the day mocking.

"Thank you." Olivia whispered back giggling. Joking and levity was the only way they had made it through this disaster of a funeral. She was beginning to feel tired so he was cheering her up. All she wanted to do was fall asleep in her bed with Fitz messaging her back. Unfortunately, every time they tried to leave, Patricia would force them back in, offering them food or champagne.

"And then, and then he had the _nerve_!" Patricia shrieked, in her thick Brooklyn accent from across the room, to a group of indifferent spectators.

"Seriously, if there was ever an award for looking like a mob wife…" Fitz said under his breath, referring to the grieving widow's tight black dress hemmed with mink, her long red finger nails and teased blond beehive."

Olivia tried to gulp down her laughter. "Since when are you the fashion police?" Olivia asked smiling at Fitz. He shook his head bemused as he took a sip of scotch.

"Since I was dropped into a complete circus." He said quietly. At this Olivia could not help herself and laughed a little too loudly. She hid her grinning face behind her hand when she saw people turning to look at her with furtive looks.

_Why are they looking at me? They have all been laughing all day!_ Much to Olivia's horror, Patricia walked over to them…

_Dear God, _Olivia thought.

"Oh, how are the two of you! Honey, you are glowing!" she shrieked, causing both Olivia and Fitz to flinch.

"And Mr. President." She said grabbing Fitz's hand in her own, while batting her thickly mascaraed eyelashes. "May I just say I am honored? Anthony spoke so highly of you. I'm glad you could be here."

Fitz exchanged an amused look with Olivia. This was about the fifth or sixth time today she had greeted them.

"Oh. Thank you Mrs. DeCastro. I'm so sorry for your lost."

"Thanks honey, Hey! Why isn't the misses drinking? And I love that dress! It's so Jackie O."

Olivia's eyes widened with horror. Why was this woman such a pain?

Patricia was still had an iron grip on Fitz's hand, one which Fitz was trying to wiggle out of.

"Thanks, but I'm not-"

"Hey! Give her a champagne." She yelled to no one in particular.

"Umm…Mrs. DeCastro, I'm just not-"

But she interrupted her once again.

"Oh, please spare me, pretty little thing like you, good boob job by the way, you should be drinking because when you get to my age, you'll regret it."

Fitz had successfully gotten his hand out of her grip and intervened.

"Mrs. DeCastro, I can assure you, she really does not drink-."

But she still relented.

"For God sake!, Mr. President, what is she pregnant?" she shrieked.

And like clockwork, the whole room turned to stare at them. Olivia had never felt so embarrassed in her whole life. She could feel her mouth gapping open. Ordinarily, she would hardly be the type to be so obvious but the brazen nature of Patricia's question had caught her off guard. She could feel Fitz shifting uncomfortably in his chair next to her.

Patricia's blue eyes widened wildly with excitement.

"Oh MY GOD! Congratulations!" she said loudly. "Everyone, the President is pregnant! Champagne for everyone!"

The room looked astonished. Someone had slowly started clapping which triggered an applause from the other guest.

_I guess we will be moving up the wedding after all. _Olivia thought as she palmed her face with embarrassment.

"I guess Karen had a point." Fitz gritted through his teeth quietly right before Patricia dragged him across the room into the middle of the guest and began peppering him with questions….

_I hate this woman. _


	30. Chapter 30

Two months later…

_This is it. _Olivia thought. The Santa Barbara ranch was hush with the silence of peace. It was one of those ideal California nights she used to fantasize about when listening to The Eagles' "Hotel California". All the guests were asleep and yet Olivia was still up. She could just hear her mother nagging her about bags under her eyes….

In a few hours, she would leave behind Olivia Pope and would become Mrs. Olivia Caroline Grant. Her brain, heart and soul had longed for this moment for years. But now that is was happening she was too excited to contain herself. She was so overwhelmed with joy and anticipation that she had tried everything, a hot bath, hot chocolate and watching her favorite movie, _An Affair to Remember_ to put her to sleep_._

Yet here she was, sitting behind her vanity mirror in her bedroom, observing reflection closely. Her hair was in its most natural state, a curly halo of ebony coils. Her skin was smooth and bare and for the first time in a long while, she had seen the "glow" of pregnancy everyone was talking about. Her face was fuller, alight with happiness and contentment. Her eyes, the one feature she had always like more than any part of herself, had never seemed so wide with life.

_Is it wrong to feel this happy? What happens if something goes wrong? Things have always gone wrong when you were this happy. _She thought to herself. In an effort to combat the negativity, she did the one thing that always provided her with comfort.

She rubbed her stomach, now a prominent protruding bump covered in the satin of her dressing gown. It brought a smile to her face…

"Hey, you in there, are you excited? Your mommy and daddy are getting married today." She whispered in a cooing voice. It had become a habit of Fitz and hers, to talk to her baby bump. Every night, he would rub her stomach, whispering, singing even at times. It was their way of bonding, of becoming the family Olivia had always dreamed of. But tonight, due to superstition and an insistence to be traditional, she would be the only one rubbing her stomach tonight. Fitz was in the guest house, and had been for the past week. She had barely seen at all in the past few days.

_I cannot wait to see him tomorrow. God, he's going to look so good. _She loved him in a tuxedo. As she visualize what her groom would look like, she caught the reflection of her dress, a flowing crème gown, Grecian in style with one shoulder that was hanging elegantly on a mannequin. She walked over to the gown slowly and walked around it. Feeling the smooth silk, admiring the detailing and just staring at it to bring back memories of fittings filled with laugher and the relief of finally finding the dress of her dreams.

But before the tears began to build, she heard her cell phone chime by her bedside.

_Who was calling her at this hour? _She wondered curiously. Carefully, she crept back into her bed and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" She answered confused. The number did not have ID.

"So you are still up." Fitz's voice said. Olivia could hear the smile in his voice.

"Where are you calling me from?" She asked giggling. Since when did his phone not have caller ID?

"My mother's cell phone, see I figured if I was going to surprise you, I needed to be a tad more discreet." Olivia laughed as she propped herself up on her pillows.

"Well, I'm glad to know that even at your age you can channel your inner fifth grader. That's going to come in handy when the little one comes along."

Fitz laughed. Boy how he had the greatest laugh. _I get to spend every day getting to make him laugh._

"Good point. Is it a testament to how well I know you or that I've just got great timing?" he asked.

"A little of both, but I guess your excuse would be because you ate too much sugar? I hope you don't fall asleep tomorrow."

"I could never fall asleep. I'm way to-"

"Excited?" Olivia interrupted.

"That's too small of a word." Fitz said softly. Olivia could feel tears building. Before she could respond, she closed her eyes and let the moment take her over.

"Fitz…" She began softly, her voice heavy with a rush of emotions, but he cut her off.

"This seems really strange, crazy even. Livy but I want to read you my vows. Right now, tonight. I'm too excited and I need to do it because if I don't, I'll just go nuts. Either that or we'll end up in Vegas in two hours." He said softly.

Olivia could feel the tears coming slowly down her cheeks. She was in heaven.

"Aren't you afraid it will ruin the surprise?" she asked choked up.

He chuckled softly. "With you, never."

She was crying, not hard but her heart had just burst. It was too much. How did God do it? Make her a man that she loved beyond reason and logic? How did he make someone so perfect that it ached to be away from him whenever he was not with her? The meaning of soul mates seemed so trivial in comparison to what they had. It was all consuming.

"Sure. But under one condition."

"What's that?"

"I get to read you mine." She said thickly. Olivia reached into the oak drawer and pulled out a leather bound photo album. She ran her well-manicured fingers over the smooth dark surface and the golden monogramed initials. _F.T.G & O.C.P_

She opened the album which creaked softly from its tight binding. She picked up the neatly folded piece of parchment which covered a photograph of the two of them. Olivia took a minute to stare. It was a black and white photo of them taken at the rehearsal dinner. He was whispering in her ear, as she her head was thrown back with laughter. Looking at it, it had become her favorite picture of them.

"Sure, but I get to go first." Fitz said laughing. "Okay." he took a deep breath and started.

"To love you is to love life. From the moment I met you, I knew. From that moment on, I knew nothing else but to be deeply and whole mind, body and soul in love with you because you became my life. And every minute, every second and every breath I spent away from you all those years, I loved you through time's window. The boundaries of which was too small and too undeserving of truly how special you are. I know what it means to have you. Your beauty, you radiance and your heart deserve nothing short of a lifetime of commitment. Because you are perfection incarnated. So I stand before you today, humbled and blessed, knowing that I know longer have to love you through time's window because I can know love you openly, for the rest of time."

Olivia was blown away. It was too much. His words, they were so…she could not comprehend the words, how to even speak, and breathe after hearing that.

"Fitz that was, wow." She said, choking.

He laughed. "Honey, why are you crying?"

"Oh, it's silly, I just I'm emotional and just that was so beautiful."

"Well, it's how I feel. So I guess I probably shouldn't tell you I wrote it years ago. It sounds stupid, but I always knew. At least I had hoped-"

"Stop talking, Fitz because if you don't we really will end up in Vegas. I need to read mine. Now."

Olivia could barely contain herself but she tried her best.

"To simply love you is wrong. It's demeaning and not enough. But to be in love with you means the greatest joy of my life because of how satisfying it is. I've spent a long time fixing people, things, insignificant things. But, you Fitzgerald Thomas Grant, have fixed me in ways that go beyond what anyone, including me could. You made me understand crave and need love in ways that I can no longer live life without. It is because you are so precious and compassionate, that I wake up every morning wondering what I did right to deserve you. Men just should not be as loving as you are. It's not real nor does it make sense. So I am privileged to spend the rest of my life walking up and trying to figure out not only what I did to deserve you, but how you continue to steal my heart away. I love you and I will always love you."

And when she finished, she cried. So overcome with love and happiness that for a long stretch, Fitz remained silent on the phone.

"Fitz, are you still there?" she asked when she finally calmed down.

He laughed nervously, his voice cracking as he began to speak.

"So…Vegas, how about it? How am I supposed to wait after hearing that?" Fitz asked.

Olivia laughed as she dabbed her face with the sleeve of her dressing gown.

"We've waited this long, what's a few more hours. We should probably head to bed."

"A lifetime it feels like. Can we have-"

"…one minute?" Olivia asked interrupting him as her heart leaped.

And with that, they let a pregnant pause communicate all the feelings too strong to be said in words.

* * *

The Greeks had it right. All those sculptors worshiping the female form, or feminine beauty Fitz thought as he laid eyes on Olivia. As she walked slowly with Cyrus leading her down the aisle, littered with beautiful white roses, as "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" was being strummed by the violinists, everything fell away. The sunny day, the pristine views and the plush compound did not exist. Just a figure of divine beauty and motherhood. If he had the ability, he would stop time.

Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight high bun that sat high on her head. He normally loved her hair wild and uninhibited but this was perfect. Because it emphasized all the other features. Her full lips which were painted a blood red, her long elegant neck, her smooth high cheek bones and then there were her eyes…

She was so soft looking, in her dress, which was almost toga like. He could not breathe. And when she finally reached him, in front of him, smiling widely, he said the only thing he could say.

"Wow." He heard the crowd laugh at this stunned reaction. Olivia laughed.

_I'm in heaven…._he thought as the ceremony commenced.

* * *

"Is this real? Or am I still high and in my dorm room trapped in the 70's imagining what heaven would be like?" Fitz asked jokingly as he twirled Olivia around. The sun was beginning to set, leaving a beautiful bloody red glow along the horizon. The reception had moved from the plush compound to an elaborate house like tent that was built over the lake. The dance floor was made of a glass like substance, giving the illusion of dancing on water. The dance floor was surrounded by beautiful round tables, covered in white linen table clothes with golden centerpieces. But the tables were empty, and everyone, including the newlyweds who were dancing the night away to jazz classics.

"I'm pretty sure you are somewhat sober, all though I'm being to wonder." Olivia said as she turned back into Fitz and slowly began swaying with him to a saxophone version of "Unchained Melody." He looked perfect, with his bow tie loose. His first shirt button was undone, revealing that sexy hollow space in between his collarbone that she loved s much. His eyes had been aglow all day with love so the day could not be more perfect.

Sure the food was fabulous, the wedding was beautiful and she was having the time of her life, but dancing with him staring into his eyes, made everything even greater.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Grant, I'm drunk enough for the both of us." Fitz said softly as he placed a kiss on lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss that sent electricity through Olivia's veins, but before they could get carried away, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey dad, if you are going to steal my girlfriend, you could at least have the decency to not rub it in." A deep humored voice said from behind her. She turned around to see Jerry, handsome in his tuxedo arm in arm with his sister who's eyes looked rather glassy, the strap of her glittering bridesmaid gown slipping down slightly. Olivia laughed.

"Can we cut in?" Karen asked smiling wide. Fitz and Olivia nodded and switched off partners, with Olivia pairing off with Jerry and Fitz pairing off with Karen.

Jerry was facially looked more like Mellie, the baby blue eyes, the soft blush in his eye cheek bones, the dimple in his aristocratic chin yet the devilish smirk, the thin pink lips and the dazzling smile was entirely dad.

"Hey cutie." Olivia said giddy, smiling up at her stepson as they began dancing.

"You know, you're breaking my heart right? I mean come on! You and me, I thought we had something special." He said joking, wiggling his eyebrows. Olivia laughed. It was their old routine.

"Hey, maybe next time. I'm still young." Olivia joked back winking causing Jerry to laugh loudly.

"But all jokes aside, it's pretty cool, seeing you and dad finally do it. He seems…so chill." Jerry said, motioning toward his father who was swing dancing with Karen.

Olivia could not help but grin at the sight of them. She was so lucky. Their baby was going to have an amazing father.

"Thanks Jerry. That means a lot. So what are you withersnappers doing after the wedding?"

Jerry nodded his head back and forth as though contemplating.

"Karen's drunk so I'm not sure but I'm thinking about taking a walk on the beach with Emma." Jerry said quietly as he motioned to a pretty redhead in a golden wide brim dress.

"Yeah…very cute. The Senator's daughter. Very politically astute. So what's up with that?" Olivia asked interested. She often gave the kids advice on their love lives.

"Ha, ha…very funny. But she's awesome. She's doing pro bono work and she loves comic books, so far she's a ten." His eyes lit up.

_Just like his father. _Olivia thought kindly.

"Well, as long as you think so. Very curvy, nice complexion. I'd approve." Olivia said nodding.

"Good." He said, placing a kiss on her cheek. But as he pulled back, he could see a thought forming. His blue eyes had gone from its normally glittery state to a sad wistfulness."

"I'm sorry my mom could not be here." He said softly. Olivia nodded. They had tried, inviting Mellie but she sent back the invitation with a curt letter of congratulations on the baby, without acknowledging the wedding. It made Olivia feel sad, oddly enough. But it did not seem as though she and Mellie would be okay ever again. Fitz had received a phone call from her weeks ago. He claimed that she had apologized, said she was happy and had be promoted to partner. But she did not want to have anything to do with Olivia.

"It's okay. I understand." Olivia said gently patting Jerry's cheek. "It's hard for her. Things did not end well."

"Things might not have ended well but its more than that. My mom, as great of a mom she is was never happy with dad. And for a long time, she took comfort in the fact that my dad was not happy with her. But to see him happy, this happy with you, would be too much. Because she'd have to face that she's not happy and won't be for a long time. So don't take it personally." He said wisely.

"Hey, kid! I want my woman back." Fitz yelled jokingly as he walked over and put his son in a playful headlock.

"Alright, alright." Karen giggled as she pretended to break up the fight. "Hey, some of the guys are headed down toward the beach, come on." She said to her brother.

"Cool." Jerry said, following his sister as she walked off the dance floor and off into the night with a group of kids their age. But right before they left, he turned back to Olivia and winked, causing her to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Fitz asked embracing her and swaying her.

Olivia looked up at him and smiled. "Your son is really wise."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Because he reminded me how blessed I am." And with that, they closed in and kissed slowly, allowing the rest of the world to fall away.

* * *

"Okay, you realize we are supposed to be having wild crazy sex?" Fitz asked wearily. They were in the master bedroom. The reception had ended a few hours ago and the guests had all either left, or taken up the spare bedrooms. The kids never came back home, but they were not holding their breathe.

Fitz was lying spread-eagle on the bed, still in his tuxedo pants and shirt, while channel surfing while Olivia, still in her dress, her make up washed off, and her hair falling around her shoulders was cuddled into her husband as she rubbed her belly.

"Hey, I'm tired, your kind of drunk. And it's four in the morning." Olivia said. She was so giddy from the day's event's she could not fall asleep, but her voice was a bit hoarse because of it.

Fitz smiled and kissed his bride's forehead. "Yeah. Not to mention, you really pregnant. I mean _really _pregnant." He slurred.

Olivia laughed, rolling her eyes as she snatched the remote from his hands.

"No kidding Sherlock, and besides, you like me pregnant, or at least you like what happens to my breasts when I'm pregnant." She joked as she landed on CNN and sat up to stare at a very drunk Fitz who was grinning widely. He sat up and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"Hence, why we should be having wild sex." He said slurring more, his eyes a little amiss. She giggled.

"Well, the next time you marry your mistress, don't knock her up and don't get drunk." She said.

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not that drunk." But as she started laughing, Fitz's attention turned to the television.

_And in breaking news, CNN is learning that Justice Department Attorney, Derek Ramirez, son of New York Senator, Andrew Ramirez is being indicted on nine felony charges pertaining to leaking justice department secrets and oddly, enough six charges of illegally soliciting prostitutes._

Fitz and Olivia exchanged looks of amused confusion.

"Was that you?" Fitz asked smirking.

"No." Olivia said quietly. "I had nothing to do with that, wedding, pregnancy, remember?"

"Yeah, now that my friend is better than wild sex. Finally, the bastard got was coming to him." Fitz slurred so badly as he pointed to the flat screen. But his coordination was so off, he pointed above the television. Olivia could do nothing but laugh hysterically. She fell on back on the bed out of breath.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"You…ha! Should…see…yourself…" She laughed out of breath at Fitz's drunk confusion. He began laughing with her as well. And they continued laughing, swimming in their giddiness.

When they finally settled down, Fitz began rubbing Olivia's stomach, as he laid gently kisses on her forehead.

"You know what's better than sex?"

"No, what?"

"This, with you right here."


	31. Chapter 31

Epilogue.

_Blue Skies (cover by Ella Fitzgerald)_

A year and a half later….

_My life is perfect…_Fitz thought happily as he stood by the window. The view outside their Park Avenue apartment was heavenly. The streets were covered in snow and alive with the holiday spirit. It was New Year's Eve. Another year, another 365 days had gone by. And it that magical year, he and his beloved had celebrated a wedding anniversary, his youngest son Fitzgerald Thomas Grant IV had taken his first steps and his daughter had finally settled down in the States and Jerry had become a law associate.

It amazed him how at peace everything was. How fulfilling his life had become. He turned around to see Olivia sitting on the floor, by the cozy fire place with Junior, playing with his train set. The sight of his wife, beautiful and alive with their son made his heart full. Motherhood had softened her. Had made her take life more in stride.

"Yay!" she exclaimed, her arms in the air as the train made its way around the track. Junior was squealing with joy, his face spread in a toothless smile.

They had spent the holidays all over. In Washington D.C for Thanksgiving with Olivia's family and co-workers, including Cyrus and James. Then there had been Christmas with his family in his mother and father's Brentwood estate. And finally Karen, Jerry, Olivia, Junior and himself at Karen's Seattle apartment. All these events had been fun, festive and had created great memories. But for New Year's Eve, they had decided on a quiet night with takeout and soft music. No guest, no help, nothing but the three of them.

* * *

A few hours later…

They were all asleep. Olivia, Fitz and Junior. It was his first New Years. He had cheered, clapping his little chubby fingers with delight as the ball dropped on television. They were not quite sure he understood what was happening but he seemed to be having a good time. They had their own little party, dancing all three of them with Junior wedged in between them, as they slow danced.

But now, exhausted from their fun little night, they were passed out on the couch, with Olivia cuddled into Fitz and Junior asleep on his mother's bosom. Fitz shook his wife awake, and they made their way from the family room, upstairs into the toddler's room, where they put him to sleep.

"Honey." Fitz said drowsily as he and Olivia walked hand in hand to their master bedroom.

She looked at him, her eyes blurry with sleep and smiled. "Another year."

He smiled down at her as he opened the bedroom door. Fitz knew just what to do. He walked over to the side table on his side of the bed, pulled out his IPod and pushed a button. The soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald's voice permeated through the dark room. He looked over at Olivia, who was smiling widely and glowing with the light of the moon. She put her arms out as if to motion for him to embrace her.

"Come here, handsome." She said her voice heavy with sleep.

_Blue skies smiling at me_

_Nothing but blue skies do I see_

_Bluebirds singing a song_

_Nothing but bluebirds all day long_

_ Never saw the sun shining so bright_

_Never saw things going so right_

_Noticing the days hurrying by_

_When you're in love, my, how they fly_

Fitz smiled and embraced her. His arms wrapped warmly around her slender waist as her arms found his neck. They swayed softly, staring deeply into each other's eyes, mouthing the words to one another and sharing deep passionate kisses.

"Mm…" Fitz said as Olivia rested her head on his chest. He placed his chin on the top of her head and whispered softly. "Time's window."

She looked up at him and smiled, as she whispered "Open, for the rest of time." It had become a little routine between them since the night before their wedding. It was their own language, their own declaration of love. Years had passed. Monument moments had occurred. But the feelings, the passion and above all the love were still there.

It had gotten them through difficult times. Making everything worthwhile. They lived, they fought, they made love and they had brought life into the world, but most importantly they had done it with love.

Olivia looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. "We don't need minutes anymore." He smiled down at her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too. And I always will."

Fin.


End file.
